Turning Point
by Red Okra
Summary: Hilda ends up saving Dimitri in Gronder Field following the victory of the Alliance. She does not think much of the consequences of her actions until she finds herself dealing with them. . . or rather, him.
1. Chapter 1

The sound of horns reverberated, signifying the end of yet another encounter in the battlefield. The fight ended up in their favor, yet all it left was a bitter taste in her mouth.

Wounds. Blood. Cries of anguish. Death.

Hilda wished those words weren't associated with their little class reunion. Funny, it all had to happen in Gronder Field too. It was like a tragic rendition of the little mock battle that happened five years ago. . .

Fire sizzled around her, heat trickling against her skin. The filthy feeling of blood, sweat and dirt surrounding her body was enough to remind her that she needed to snap out of her musings and regroup with Claude and the others. She was dispatched in the northwestern area of the field, a strategic decision made by Byleth which meant she had to be separated from the rest of the group. She thought to argue at first; it was a huge responsibility, she knew . . . and responsibilities, she absolutely _hated_.

Yet she also knew it was delegated to her because she was the person fit for the job.

So she accepted without complaint. Perhaps a little whine came out, yes, but she accepted.

The first wave of the battle went as Byleth predicted. The Kingdom army aggressively focused their attacks on the Imperial side, and the latter retaliated just as hard. Much like their mock battle, the Alliance seemed like outsiders joining the fray, and it had been a factor that Claude took advantage of as students; while the two houses were busy destroying each other at the start, they'd join in and swipe the trophy towards the end. She thought it was a rather underhanded strategy but the professor agreed anyway; the other two houses should never have underestimated them in the first place. Hilda herself wasn't one to complain since it brought them bragging rights and full bellies as they celebrated with a feast back at Garreg Mach right after the exhausting fight.

She wished things could be as simple as that again.

The strength of the Imperial army was no joke, judging by their numbers. If perhaps the Kingdom and the Alliance were to join forces—they did have a common enemy after all—it would ultimately turn the tides of the battle. However, Dimitri didn't seem to be in a reasonable state of mind, so the Alliance needed to depend on themselves.

The professor decided that if they could avoid the Kingdom forces, the better, so they could focus on breaking the Imperial's numbers. The Alliance wasn't the priority of the Kingdom anyway, and most likely would only charge back if they would encounter one another in the field.

The plan had been going smoothly until apparently, the Kingdom soldiers saw the heirs of Gautier and Fraldarius fighting for the Alliance, and branded them, along with the others originally from the Kingdom, as traitors.

From then on, pandemonium broke out and she found herself fighting off Kingdom and Imperial soldiers alike. In the resulting battle, she encountered familiar faces—Ignatz and Marianne—but the waves of attacks pushed them elsewhere and did not give her a chance to even see how well they were. In fact, she had not seen any of her friends when everything was over; she only wished nothing dire had happened to any of them, and that none of them were amongst the many piles of bodies on the battlefield.

The fire on the central platform had started to extinguish, yet it didn't make her journey any less unpleasant. The smoke stung her eyes, and the heat was starting to be unbearable. She motioned for her troops to hurry up. She just wanted everything to be over.

Their motion only came to a stop when she noticed movement amidst the bodies a distance away. She felt the blood draining from her face.

The striking, regal blue cape around his shoulders already revealed his identity.

Dimitri.

She wasn't aware of the specifics as she only relied on brief reports from messengers, but apparently Claude and Byleth tried to reason with him. That had been part of their plan, the main reason why they designated themselves nearest to the Kingdom army, yet Dimitri still refused to listen. It resulted to a brief battle, with Dimitri ultimately retreating when mages from the Imperial army interfered.

Judging from his current state the wounds he sustained were likely terrible, likely in need of immediate assistance.

Her remaining battalion tensed, standing on their guard and waiting for her orders. She simply gestured for them to stop, opting to observe the situation before deciding anything rash.

It did not take a genius to know that those five years had not been kind to Dimitri. She noticed it, of course, that it made her thankful that she had someone like Claude as their house leader instead. She prided herself to be an observant person, a feat she mostly utilized to study various characters, so of course she noticed that beneath the charming smiles of the handsome Prince Dimitri, there existed darkness in his soul. Initially she was dumbfounded with overhearing Felix's apparent disgust over him, but she began to put things together when she noticed his troubled expressions in their joint classes. Some shallow girls dismissed it as his "brooding" face, yet Hilda felt there was more to it, especially since it began to happen only when the talk of the town was the Flame Emperor. . . who just happened to be Edelgard.

That darkness perhaps grew wildly, bringing out a crazed beast—a stark contrast to his reputation as the kind-hearted royal when they were students. She had not witnessed it herself, as she was on the other side of the battlefield, yet the rumors reached her ears. He was the monster capable of crushing skulls, who brought merciless deaths to those who dared cross his path.

It made her wonder: if there had been someone who guided him, who would have been with him in those five years, could his descent to darkness be avoided?

Because definitely, she could no longer see whatever reputation he inadvertently built as a 'beast.' In front of her she could only see . . . a shell of a defeated man, who perhaps just wanted to attain his goals, no matter how misguided he actually was.

In no time Dimitri fell on his knees, and then collapsing completely to the ground. Her eyes began to water, thinking she had just witnessed his final moments.

Yet seconds later he himself proved her wrong, as she saw him barely lifting his body up, continuing his pursuit. He crawled on the ground pathetically, clawing onto the soil in a desperate attempt to pull his own weight.

It gave her mixed feelings. One of them was admiration, that despite the obviously dire circumstances his willpower stayed strong. Another was horror. She just wanted him to stop already.

What was even making him push himself beyond his limits?

Her gaze shifted further, and she learned that the answers were right in front of her. Beyond the fog, there was an unmistakable figure in red, withdrawing alongside various crimson banners.

Edelgard.

Just when she had that realization, Imperial soldiers, no more than ten, emerged from east and west, walking towards Dimitri.

Even with the relic Areadbhar on his hand, which he was barely dragging onto the ground, he obviously was no longer a threat. She knew, against them, he no longer stood a chance.

There was nothing Dimitri could do.

The realization drew a pang in her heart, so much that she could no longer stop the tears from escaping her eyes.

The soldiers approached him slowly, surrounding him. Their stances held no semblance of showing any mercy, even as Dimitri fell unceremoniously again. Their mocking laughs rang painfully through her ears.

She wasn't given the luxury to get to know him, yet she felt Dimitri didn't deserve that kind of death.

She used to wonder about those people willing to risk their lives to save someone else. She still thought it was stupid; it was much, _much _better to enjoy your life and go on with living, right?

But then again, could she really enjoy her life fully, knowing that she failed to save a person when she was capable of doing so?

But what else could she really do? No one from the Alliance nor the Kingdom was in sight. Even if a small part of her was itching to help out, the odds were heavily against them. They were outnumbered. She only had four remaining men, formidable soldiers handpicked by her brother, to be fair, yet they were also injured. It was risky to charge in, even if the enemies seemed like measly foot soldiers. Time was a huge factor too, as she doubted she could make it in time.

Feeling helpless, she clutched her hands into fists. Why must it have been her who'd have to witness it? She wasn't much of a believer herself, but it was one of the moments where she wanted to face the goddess and ask, why couldn't it have been Claude or the professor instead who was in her position? Why couldn't it have been them, who would have been more likely to do something about the situation? Perhaps, she could never really be a hero, not like her brother. . .

She had been digging her fingernails into her palms too much to the point of pain. She quickly released it, looking miserably on the marks she herself formed.

It unintentionally sent her another realization.

Her hands. She could use her hands.

Without thinking twice, she whispered the incantations she learned from her Reason class, and an enormous bolt of lightning struck a portion of the Imperial soldiers. Magic wasn't really her forte so she doubted it was enough to fully incapacitate the ones she targeted, yet it was successful in completely distracting the enemies, who, by the looks of it, totally did _not _see her coming.

There was no turning back.

She charged. Her soldiers, quick on their feet, followed suit.

Before she knew it, she slashed the nearest foot soldier, sputtering blood on her dress. _Disgusting_, she would have muttered in other circumstances, but she had no time to think as she swung her axe to the next approaching opponent.

Before she knew it, she was panting heavily, anticipating more movements, yet soon realized there were none left. She threw her weapon aside, completely worn out from use.

Even with the unexpected turn of events, she somehow kept a clear head, instructing her most agile soldier to immediately report what happened to Claude.

She approached Dimitri, kneeling down. He still had a pulse, yet was no longer holding Areadbhar. He seemed to have lost consciousness.

"Lady Hilda." One of her soldiers approached her, asking if she was alright.

She didn't answer, instead looking at her blood-stained hands.

She. . . actually managed to do it. At the back of her head, she knew her actions were foolish, something her brother would surely berate her for. Claude too, perhaps. Maybe even the younger version of herself if she could miraculously materialize in front of her. There was no reason for her to risk her life for Dimitri. It would've made more sense if she was originally from the Blue Lions house. She and Dimitri were barely acquaintances, and yet . . .

Her soldier called her again. She finally responded, uttering she was fine. She took note of the bloodstains on Dimitri's cape growing by margin. In the midst of her attack, one of the soldiers must've managed to stab him. Without thinking twice she started lifting Dimitri's shoulders. He did appear as heavy as he looked, armor and all.

What followed were sounds of mixed surprise and protests from her soldiers when she began hauling Dimitri's body upwards.

"I said I'm fine, so this should be fine too." Truthfully it required effort, but she managed to. Subtly she had been eyeing the injuries that her soldiers had. They weren't there before they charged in. She concealed her guilt with a perfectly rehearsed smile and wink. "This is a secret between us, but I'm not always such a delicate flower, y'know. Just this once, though!"

Her soldiers, most likely trained by her brother to be fussy, still tried to pry the larger man from her yet she didn't budge. It was probably ironic how most of her life she'd have people do menial things for her when they'd offer, yet she didn't give in for such a heavier task, literally and figuratively. Despite what some may think she was capable of giving out effort when she needed to.

Soon enough Claude and Byleth were within her sight, scurrying off towards them. Before they reached a conversational distance with her, she felt Dimitri barely lifting his head.

"Why. . ?"

It caught her by surprise. She wasn't sure if it was because she hadn't expected him to have the strength to speak at all, or because she likewise did not know what to answer him that moment.

Yet she didn't need to, because whatever she could have said would fall to deaf ears as he lost consciousness once more.

* * *

They returned to Garreg Mach soon after, where they encountered men from House Fraldarius. Since her wounds were being tended to by the clerics, she wasn't present in the deliberations with the Duke Fraldarius, Rodrigue. She felt like she didn't need to, anyway. She wanted to leave all the political talking (a.k.a. boring chatter) to the leaders (a.k.a. Claude and Byleth a.k.a. _totally _not her). The only real thing that mattered to her was knowing that despite being injured, all her friends made it in one piece and survived the encounter.

Mercedes worked her faith magic on her fatigued arm. Usually her arms didn't need extra work in healing because she was used to swinging around heavy weapons; then again, carrying Dimitri was probably equivalent to swinging her axe hundredfold.

"Thank you, Hilda," Mercedes said, as her abilities soothed the aching in her arms. Hilda only gave her a questioning look. Wasn't she the one supposed to do the thanking since she was the one being healed?

The cleric smiled, catching on.

"For saving Dimitri."

Oh. She almost forgot that he used to be her house leader, and her allegiances were originally from the Kingdom.

"It was nothing, really!" She looked away, trying hard to conceal her discomfort at the topic. "Well, apart from making me all sweaty in the process, blegh. I'm totally in need of hours in the sauna."

Mercedes chuckled softly. "I always knew we were kindred spirits. Remember what we talked about weeks ago?"

Of course she did. Hilda could still remember her exact words:

"_If you see someone in trouble, you can't leave, can you?" _

"Hilda?" Mercedes called out, cutting short her little daydream.

"I still don't believe we're at the same level in that, Mercedes. You're probably likely to be nominated as a heroic saint with the number of people you've helped!"

"You're brushing it off like it was merely an errand of watering plants at the greenhouse. I heard of the reports. You were at a disadvantage with numbers. Despite that, you charged in, anyway. If you wouldn't define that as heroic, I don't know what would!"

Hilda wasn't a stranger to acting vulnerable. It's how she managed to get away with letting people help her out despite her own capable hands. She hated how Mercedes could truly bring out her vulnerable side with just words. Marianne, who had been quietly doing her work and listened on with their exchange, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The action did not help at all with her desperate attempts of holding back her tears.

"Oh, you guys!" Hilda sniffed, wiping away her tears. "I honestly don't know how I even managed it at all. It was reckless, I know, I even risked the lives of my own soldiers but . . . I simply couldn't just leave him alone. I . . . I don't think my conscience would be able to take it if I just stood there and did nothing."

Marianne rubbed her shoulders. "I think it was admirable, what you did, Hilda. You did the right thing. I don't think I could've done anything if I were in your position. . ."

Mercedes held her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "And you know what's miraculous too? You barely have any serious wounds. Perhaps, you really had the goddess on your side."

Hilda heaved a sigh, embracing the other two ladies.

"I don't know, guys. Maybe the goddess possessed me or something," she remarked, trying to lighten up the mood further.

That time, she was assured that she did the right thing and thought of it no longer.

* * *

By the time she was fully healed, she encountered a pensive Claude, watching the retreating forms of House Fraldarius exiting from the monastery gates. They apparently took Dimitri with them. She did not point it out, yet she knew he was pissed with how events turned out.

"That's fine, Claude. Let's look at the brighter side. We're all okay, and everything is back in their place."

Claude only turned to her, seemingly inclined to agree initially but shut his mouth instead. She knew that look on his face.

"Don't tell me you were planning to use Dimitri for one of your schemes?"

He gave her a look of mock surprise.

"Wow, you really think I'd stoop to the level of using an unconscious man and possibly use it for the benefit of our army?" When Hilda didn't react, he chuckled. "But well, you caught me. I was thinking if Dimitri stayed with us we could gather support from the Kingdom. We could really use some numbers, you know."

"What did Rodrigue say?"

"He was actually in favor of working together to go against the empire, so he understood where we're coming from. However, his priority is Dimitri's recovery. He did promise to send some troops though."

Claude sighed heavily.

"Well, thinking about it, this may be for the best. Dimitri doesn't seem to be in good shape anyway, physical and mental-wise. Probably best not to involve him further."

As much as she hated to admit it. . . Dimitri was a mess, like a hopeless case. It probably was for the best.

Claude's eyes turned to her. She didn't like the cheeky grin that appeared on his face.

"By the way, you surprised me, Hilda. Why'd you do it?"

She also knew what he was insinuating, yet feigned ignorance.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. For someone who despises effort, what moved you to save him? Don't tell me the two of you had a secret relationship all along?"

"Oh, shut it, Claude!" She crossed her arms, trying the dismiss the topic altogether. "And what do you mean I despise effort? I always give it my all!"

He laughed heartily. "I'm just teasing you, Hilda. But really, you surprised me. Wouldn't have anticipated you doing that."

She knew he had no ill-intentions with what he said, but memories flashed back instantly, and feelings of doubt loomed back to her instead. Claude noticed, and his playful looks faded.

"I . . . did the right thing, didn't I?" She looked at her hands, slightly trembling.

"Well, Dimitri may be a little crazy right now, but I highly doubt you'll be on his to-kill list once he wakes up, if that's what you're afraid of."

She bit her lip. She wasn't sure if that was the reason but. . .

He gave her a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine, Hilda. I'm not sure about the roots of your worries, but I'm sure Rodrigue will take things from here."

She nodded. She supposed there were far more important things to worry about.

Weeks passed and she no longer really heard what happened to Dimitri since his departure from Garreg Mach. She made no real effort to investigate further, but the information flew right onto her feet one day.

"Have you heard of the rumors about Dimitri? Apparently, he's still unconscious. Hasn't woken up since Rodrigue took him."

She frowned. When she said she wanted him to talk about something else other than the war, she was hoping he'd tell her some of his harmless childhood stories, not some baseless gossip that made her feel worse.

"Well, based from your reaction, I suppose I better not tell you the other rumors about him."

She rolled her eyes at his teasing. "What could be worse than that?"

Claude's eyes softened. "That he's actually already dead. Died on their journey back to the Fhirdiad, and that Rodrigue was hiding the truth out of fear that whatever hope the Kingdom had left would crumble."

She found herself not commenting, feeling the surge of different emotions which she couldn't name right away. She felt Claude's watchful eyes as he waited for her response.

In the end she breathed out, managing to muster a smile. "I suppose if that's true, then I don't regret what I did. At least he died peacefully in his homeland."

The thought was definitely better than imagining him punctured by several spears as she stood by and did nothing.

She offered a rare prayer for him at the altar. Wished him peace. Buried her doubts and worries as she prepared for the decisive battles on the days to come.

She no longer really heard of him even when peace was finally restored in Fódlan.

* * *

Hilda stretched her arms, waking up from the sounds of birds chirping and the sun rays seeping through her glass windows. She considered starting her day and getting things done yet ended up plopping herself back to bed, enjoying the coziness of her pillows and comforters.

It had been months since Nemesis' defeat. After the grand feast celebrating their victory, it was obvious that they all had to go their separate ways. It was a bittersweet feeling; perhaps it's what would've been like if they had a normal school experience and actually graduated from the Officers Academy. She'd say she would definitely miss the moments when they were all in one room together, laughing heartily as they ate, because chances of that occurring wouldn't be as often as what she'd like. Perhaps if there's one thing she missed in the war period, it was definitely the time spent being together and interacting with the people whom she considered already as her friends. In a sense it made them cherish every moment because it was uncertain whether they could survive it in the end.

She turned from her bed, lazily watching the calm swaying of trees from her window. She wondered if any of her friends were in a similar situation as her. Certainly not Lorenz, Ingrid or Ferdinand, who most likely had risen up already, prepared to assume responsibilities as the upcoming heads of their respective houses. Nor would Raphael, who was probably getting ready to keep his inn clean and tidy. Perhaps Claude would; he was never really fond of rising up early. Then again he was probably forced to wake up since he was being groomed to become the next King of Almyra.

She was very much relieved that she managed to convince Holst to let her live away from the Goneril estate. Of course she did stay the first few weeks, but somehow, even for someone like her who did not shy away with having people around to do work for her, she wanted to be free. Maybe her time away from home during the war awakened her inner desire to have a little bit of independence in her life.

Of course, Holst, being the overprotective brother that he was, only agreed if it was done in his terms. He allowed her to stay at a decent-sized cabin near the borders of Goneril, about an hour away by horse from the capital, with kind neighbors that manage a field. Holst personally knew them, retired soldiers who opted for a simple life as farmers, so he was confident that Hilda at least had someone to rely on if she needed immediate assistance.

Most of her days were spent on making accessories and entrusting the sales to a merchant closely tied to her family. She also regularly exchange letters with Marianne, whom she learned was being trained by her adoptive father to be the successor of their house, and occasionally Claude, whom she had yet to meet again despite all the promises of inviting her to Alymra to introduce her to his parents. On some occasions she also traveled to Garreg Mach, aiding in its restoration. Mercedes, who had became one of the head clerics of the monastery, was her usual chatting buddy along with Seteth, who insisted that they keep in touch to continue their collaboration in making storybooks for children. Lysithea had been there too on some occasions, assisting Hanneman in his research, as well as Sylvain, who still hadn't changed his smooth-talking ways. She did feel an air of maturity from him, which was most likely due to his inheritance of the title Margrave Gautier. There was also Annette too, who had become a teacher at a sorcery school in Fhirdiad. She hadn't seen Byleth since the feast, yet with the responsibilities the professor had as the new leader of the United Fódlan, it was of course understandable that their teacher traveled around the land often.

Hilda's days were spent in solitude in that quiet town at Goneril, which she honestly did not mind. She gathered sufficient funds from selling her accessories that she rarely even needed to touch the monthly allowances given by her brother. If she wanted her dose of socialization, she simply needed to go to the nearby marketplace or travel whenever she wanted. She was content with what she had.

Despite that, of course, she found herself dreaming big in some days. Dreams of building her own artisan academy, teaching aspiring students about the art of creating something beautiful, sharing what she was passionate about . . .

. . . But they simply remained as dreams and nothing more.

_'Why should they simply remain as dreams and not turn to reality, Hilda? If money is amongst your concern, I can talk to my father and pledge financial support. I am certain he would be supportive. He has seen how beautiful your creations are.' _

Hilda chuckled, reading the latest letter that Marianne sent. She had probably read through the same paragraph more than ten times already, but she still couldn't muster a coherent response. While it did warm her heart knowing how supportive her friend was, she realized there were some thoughts that she'd rather not face yet.

Finances, of course, were a huge part of the deal, yet feelings of readiness weren't something as tangible and easy to obtain. And she absolutely did not want to think that just because most of her classmates were close to being big shots already, nobles and commoners alike, with all their big responsibilities in their own fields, she was left behind as little mediocre Hilda and. . .

She slapped her own face several times before grabbing a piece of parchment, settling down with a reply that having a school was just too much of an effort for her.

She read through the rest of Marianne's message, searching for other details to dwell onto. For someone as soft-spoken as Marianne, Hilda was thankful she was starting to express her thoughts more. Marianne even shared how she chanced upon Linhardt who just so happened to be doing research at their territory, and how Lorenz frequently visited her. For Hilda, it wasn't a surprise that Marianne had a share of suitors, even when she herself probably didn't realize it (_ bless her soul _), because honestly, her friend was such a catch and bloomed beautifully as time passed.

Trying to contain herself from replying with something too inappropriate (like _'I'm pretty sure Lorenz wants to milk something else and not those cows from all those dairy innovation talks' _), Hilda ended up prattling much on her friend's love life, ending her note how she wished that the love of her life would fall in her doorstep or something too. Because pursuing a relationship, much like having an academy, could be so, _so_ much effortful as well.

She sealed the letter, traveled to the marketplace to hand over it to the messenger, and went on with the rest of her day, not at all noticing that she was being watched.

* * *

While she was certain they were living in the more peaceful days, Hilda herself wasn't really free from the aftershocks of war.

She woke up cold and sweaty, her nightgown sticking uncomfortably against her skin. It's been months since she last held her weapon, yet she still had night terrors of going to war and being haunted by those who had been the receiving end of her blade. _You never really get used to it, _her brother often told her, and it was one of those nights that she longed to be home and be in her brother's embrace.

When her breathing turned normal, she rose from her bed and maneuvered herself to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of water. She drank it all in one go.

She shut her eyes, trying to calm her nerves, and settled the glass onto the counter. It produced a brittle clank and a distinct thud . . ?

Was she hearing things?

The same thud resounded.

Her battle senses turned on like a switch. Her senses weren't wrong.

Someone was there.

She fumbled in the dark, hand searching for her kitchen knife, but the perpetrator quickly lunged at her, which she effectively evaded. She grabbed hold of something long—a wooden ladle?—and swung it hard towards the figure's face. It was a futile attempt because the man—she's certain it's a man—didn't even flinch, quickly overpowering her and grabbing her hands, successfully pushing her to the wall with force that knocked the air out of her lungs.

The moment she recovered, the bastard had her against the wall, hands above her head as if she were a pinned ragdoll. Whoever it was had a grip so strong, impossible to break free from. With the way he held her, she couldn't even gather enough leverage as her feet barely touched the floor.

"Wh-what do you want?" she whimpered, attempting to sound even more helpless than what she was actually feeling. She was clinging onto the possibility of retaliating the moment he let his guard down. "I-I'll do anything, just please don't hurt me."

Her words didn't seem to have any effect on him. If anything, she felt the grip around her hands tighten even more.

"Why?"

The raspy voice . . . was eerily familiar, that goosebumps appeared all over her skin. The figure shifted, so his face was no longer hidden in the shadows. With the faint illumination of the night skies, she caught a glimpse of a single blue eye looking directly at her. His pale hair, unkempt, glowed under the moonlight.

It was no random thief.

"Dimitri?" she voiced out despite all the questions in her head. He was still alive?

He said nothing, making no affirmation whatsoever about her assumption. Briefly, she wondered if this was all another vivid nightmare and she was being haunted by him.

"Back then. In Gronder Field. Why did you save me?"

In just a second, all the doubts and fears she thought she had completely buried came flooding back. She suddenly knew the reasons for her uncertainties when she made the decision of saving him. Even when Mercedes and Marianne assured her she did the right thing, even if Claude told her it would all be fine, she felt scared.

What if the person she saved did not want to be saved, after all?

"Claude," he whispered, anger seeping out through his lips. She felt his hands quivering against hers. "Tell me. Was it Claude?"

It took her longer than what she liked to understand what he was insinuating. "N-no! It wasn't. Claude, he didn't order me to—"

"Then, why?!"

Her lips trembled, searching for answers herself. She remembered thinking how stupid she had been for risking her life to save him. She remembered how she thought she could no longer enjoy life fully if she didn't even try saving someone who was right in front of her. Hilda feared disappointing anyone, but with her decision, it wasn't about disappointing people who knew Dimitri.

She knew, she would be disappointed in herself if she just stood by and did nothing.

So . . . in the end, had she been really selfish, all along? Especially since Dimitri didn't even want to be saved. . .

The grip on her hands loosened, making her slip down against the wall. She knew it was her best chance to escape from the mad man in front of her. Yet her knees felt weak; her voice gone. She tried to consider other options, fighting off her own irrationalities, until she felt something dripping on her head.

He was crying?

Dimitri fell on his knees, cowering in front of her like a scared child. Just like that, the wrath emanating from him was gone.

"What do I do now? That woman is gone, _dead_, yet I can still hear their voices. I no longer understand what they want. What purpose do I have now?!"

She fumbled for words, yet couldn't find any. Instead, she reached out her hand, wanting to touch his shoulder to offer comfort, to perhaps pay him back for her selfish decision, yet it stopped just before it could, remembering how he held her in a vice grip and how she wanted nothing more than for him to just let go.

"Perhaps . . . maybe, you should just have let me die back then."

She found herself disagreeing, shaking her head.

"If I had just died—"

She heard enough, trusting in her gut feeling and finally placing her hand on his shoulder. The contact made him stiffen at first, but eventually he relaxed.

"Sorry, but I have to disagree. . ."

His gaze was glued on the floor between them, refusing to meet her eyes. He looked lost.

"I saved you . . . Because I couldn't stand the thought of doing nothing when I actually could." She squeezed his shoulder and tried to muster a smile. "So then, the next time you want to die make sure I'm not there! B-Because I sure as heck won't let you! My conscience could not take doing nothing, you hear that?"

"Then . . . What do I do now?"

Dimitri's voice was tame, just like how it was back in the early days of the academy. Perhaps, there was actually really hope left in him?

Her hand shifted to the side of his neck so he was forced to look at her.

The answer should be obvious, right?

"Live, Dimitri. Live."

If perhaps it meant she could give another person a chance to live and enjoy life just like her, then she didn't care if it made her selfish.


	2. Chapter 2

She woke up on her bed with a mild headache. Her blanket was crumpled on her side, so she concluded that the chilly air must've stirred her awake. She groaned, sitting up, and glanced at the window. The skies were dyed dim blue, and the sun did not seem to be peeking from the horizons yet. It was unusual for her to be awake at that time, so by reflex, she let herself fall on her comfy bed, allowing her soft pillows to embrace her pounding head. . .

Until she remembered what had just occurred the night before.

_Dimitri._

She frantically got up, scurried back to her kitchen, yet there was no Dimitri in sight. Her whole cabin was also quiet, the sound of her own breathing the only thing that reached her ears.

For a moment, she processed whether or not what had occurred was simply a dream. She had her share of vivid dreams before, dreams so realistic that it would take her a while to process if they actually happened or not. She scanned the surroundings and spotted a broken wooden ladle on the flooring. The empty glass she remembered drinking from was also by the counters.

If it wasn't real, then had she just been sleepwalking hard. . . ?

She unhurriedly explored every room in her house, looking at every corner where he could possibly be staying at, yet not a single soul was seen.

Still, she wasn't convinced it was all a dream . . . But things weren't adding up the same.

Did he perhaps already leave, setting off with his life? The thought honestly left her with feelings of be fair, that's exactly what she wanted him to do, but his departure was so abrupt, like sure, _okay _, she must've fallen asleep before he had any chance to say goodbye but that didn't mean he should have. She had some questions to ask him herself! Like, how was he even alive?!

Just when she acknowledged how pissed off she was with how things turned out, she remembered the last look that Dimitri had given her, as if he had finally found his answers, his peace. . .

. . . What if she actually had a conversation with a ghost?

Goosebumps erupted all over her skin. _Yikes!_

She rubbed her arms with her hands and shooed away the scary thoughts. No use in frightening herself.

She opened her closet to grab her robe, intending to go outside. All the thinking was just making her head hurt even more. Perhaps she just needed some fresh air.

The pale dawn skies were a rare sight for her eyes to behold. Ever since she started living alone, she pretty much managed her own time which meant the decision of what to do before sunrise was entirely up to her. Most of the time she basically just slept through it._What_, she considered the extra hours as beauty sleep.

The morning breeze was cool that day, sending shivers trickling her body. It should be expected, since it was the last few weeks of the Horsebow Moon. She pulled her robe together and crossed her arms, walking to the side of her cabin, and letting the view of the vast fields calm her.

In no time she found herself mesmerized with the way the grass and the crops danced against the winds, that she couldn't help but let her arms sway along as well, momentarily forgetting the chilly air. She found herself humming the music played in the White Heron Cup, one of her favorite memories in the academy. She had always loved to dance, perhaps one of the things she'd proudly say she could do, so she was pretty much ecstatic when the professor chose her as the representative of Golden Deer.

Attempting to recall the moment of her glory, she shut her eyes. She imagined the vast ceilings of the reception hall of Garreg Mach, the bright lights focused on her as she performed with all her heart. Along with the choreography, the music was something she knew by heart, if only due to her countless times of practice.

She continued humming, swaying and twirling on the open space with no care at all. A passerby would probably think she was crazy if they saw her, especially since she was far from being presentable—her long hair was disheveled, and her sleepwear wasn't actually what any decent person would wear out in the open.

It's not really as if someone would be watching her anyway—well, her kind neighbors maybe but she didn't mind since they're _lovely _audiences—but at that hour, she doubted anyone was up. The roadside was even empty. She had the world all to herself.

Except she soon realized how wrong she was.

She let out an undignified shriek. On her back porch sat the person who she already concluded to be a ghost haunting her. Dimitri's single eye widened, a dumbfounded look appearing on his face. The reaction somehow sent a weird sense of relief in her, nevermind the rapid pounding of her chest. At least if he was indeed a ghost following her around, she had to deal with someone capable of feeling emotions other than wrath and sadness. She'd probably go crazy otherwise.

"Sheesh!" she remarked, placing a hand on her chest. "You scared me!"

He didn't say anything, instead looking downwards, seemingly ashamed. She only realized he was crouching beside the storage shed for her firewood, prolly the reason why she didn't immediately notice him.

"I've. . . thought about it. What you told me last night."

His voice was gentle, no hints of the scary growls present from their initial encounter. Gradually her shoulders relaxed.

"Thank you," he continued, "I think my path is much clearer now. I will do as you say."

She found the corners of lips rising. She supposed that was the only closure that she needed to hear from him. She waited for him to stand and go about his journey to self-discovery or whatever but he did not move from his spot.

"Um, Dimitri? Why are you still here?"

A puzzled look appeared on his face. "I'm doing what you suggested."

She raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on her hip. She told him to live, right? "How exactly is _this _. . . 'living?'"

"Being here feels like I'm living with a purpose."

Hilda's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I have decided to stay here," he responded with confidence, as if he thought about it for a long time.

"Stay here _to_?" she clarified, getting even more bewildered the more she spoke to him.

"To guard you."

"To guard _me_?"

He nodded. "Yes. I owe you my life."

"Okay, okay, that makes sense I guess, but what makes you say that _I _need guarding. At all?"

Dimitri pursed his lips together. "The lock on your door. . . was easily broken."

Huh? But her front door was completely fine!

Just before she could clarify further, Dimitri, with a look of shame, gestured to her back door.

Her eyes turned to slits. His head lowered even further.

"I apologize."

_Unbelievable_. The lock that he broke was some high-quality metal! She sighed heavily.

"You better be."

The next few seconds had been silent, and she grew conscious of the cold winds surrounding them again. Funny how these unforeseen circumstances made her want to be back inside her cabin again.

She approached him, observing his face, obviously looking lost. She glanced at the broken door knob and sighed again. Actually, she was glad to see him there—and not as a ghost especially-but these turn of events. . . It wasn't one she expected. She also recalled that their little night encounter left her with questions that she did not have a chance to ask because, _well_, it involved attacking, some shouting and crying here and there.

"You know what," she said, breaking the silence, "why don't we talk again? Come on."

He followed her inside without complaint, much to her relief. She led him to her common room and gestured for him to sit while she made tea. He also did so without complaint, patiently waiting until she emerged back from the kitchen.

"Okay, first of all," she began after taking a sip from her cup, "you're alive after all? I mean, sorry to sound so blunt, but all the stories being passed around made it seem like you weren't."

His eyes were set on his cup on his hands, tea still untouched. "I don't know much of the details starting my departure from Garreg Mach on the day that you saved me. By the time I woke up I was already back at Fhirdiad. Of course, still blinded by my rage, I insisted on marching against the empire despite my grave physical condition. Rodrigue was forced to take drastic measures and had a team of medics put me in a deep state of unconsciousness until my body has fully healed. It apparently took a longer time than they anticipated because of the wounds I sustained from the dark magic done by that woman's army. By the time the treatment was successful and I woke up again. . . "

Dimitri's hands trembled, and briefly, she wondered if he'd also end up breaking the precious piece of porcelain.

". . . it was all over. Rodrigue told me the news himself. That Edelgard was defeated, along with those that slithered in the dark. Peace was fully restored. I should have felt happy, and yet all that came over me was emptiness. Rodrigue insisted that I could rule over Fhirdiad again, represent Faerghus and the rest of its nobles, but I can't find myself to."

His voice softened, shame overcoming his features. She quietly listened on.

"One day I just began questioning my existence. Why was I even alive? I felt like I should have just died in Gronder Field, yet I didn't. . . Even the voices I hear didn't have any clarity and just left me more confused. From then on, I felt rage. An emotion I haven't felt the longest time. It pushed me to escape my room, from the palace, for the first time. I knew I couldn't get my answers if I was stuck there doing nothing. That's what brought me here."

He finally took a sip from his cup. If it was too sweet for his tastes, it didn't show on his face.

"So those rumors—those had mainly been my fault. It makes sense that people would assume I was dead because they haven't seen me in a long while. I never made myself appear in public despite Rodrigue's insistence."

"But why not?" she asked. "Surely the people are waiting for their king's return?"

"It's what Rodrigue said too, but I doubt it. I don't think I'll be able to face them again. With all my wrongdoings, I failed them as their leader. I'm not worthy of such title."

She knew that look. It's the look of someone who feared facing disappointments.

Before she could even comment on it, Dimitri had settled his teacup on the table and was kneeling before her, his golden locks concealing his face like a veil as he bowed his head low. Her eyes could only widen enough.

"So please, Hilda, allow me to serve you in ways that I can—"

"D-Dimitri!" Her bewilderment reached its peak that she almost spilled her tea as she stood. "What are you doing—?! Stand up!"

He ignored her request. "I can guard your cabin, chop your firewood, anything; I can't promise that I can do a lot at first but I can learn so—"

"HOLD UP, HOLD UP!"

Her frantic screaming at least managed to make him stop in his ramblings, yet he still hadn't moved. Like a stubborn, enormous rock.

It was all _too _much for Hilda. With all her emotional fluctuations since she woke up, it was likely her craziest morning since the war. Sure, there had been a time when she told herself that she probably wouldn't bend the knee for either Edelgard or Dimitri because that sort of possibility existed, but _never_, not even in her wildest imagination have she thought of it the other way around. Well sure, maybe she sometimes _did _dream of having a handsome manservant who would do to her bidding, but she never imagined it this way—not Dimitri of House Blaiddyd, leader of the Blue Lions, the freakin' King of Faerghus!

"Dimitri! Dimitriii. . ." she pleaded, rubbing the sides of his shoulders in distress. Somehow, it had gotten him to at least finally look at her, but she soon regretted the decision.

Because his eye, that very single blue eye was far too expressive, staring back at her with much pleading. It seemed like she was face-to-face with a sad puppy. Grr, she wished he didn't look at her that way.

Summoning the last of her willpower—no, _no_, she would **_not_** give in—she grabbed his hands and pulled him up to his feet. He pretty much towered over her—her head barely reached his shoulders!—and yet, why did it all seem that all power was within her?

"Dimitri, look," she began carefully, "I mean, I really, _reaaally _appreciate your offer, but. . ." She squeezed his hands. Man, his hands were big. ". . . this isn't where you belong."

In her relatively brief school life, Hilda had not been a stranger in receiving love confessions, which meant she was also no stranger in rejecting every single one of them. She admitted that on more than one occasion, she made use of someone's attraction to her to get what she wanted. She didn't find fault in it; as long as she pretended not to know of those feelings, she knew she also made those boys feel good because they know they helped her. It was a totally different story, however, if they confess those feelings out in the open. Contrary to what some may believe, she was not fond of giving people false hopes, so when it reached a point when they gather enough courage to admit their feelings, she will flat out say "no." Or some sort of variation. And every time she did that, she admitted having feelings of guilt and pity. Okay maybe that was a bit bad of her to do, but that's just it. She knew they'd eventually move on from her.

Dimitri was an entirely different case. For one he didn't really confess his love for her or anything. . . But he did somehow imply that his life was hers to dictate.

And that was a little bit _too _much. It's a dangerous offer to give to someone like her.

Which was why she needed to stop it. She needed to break his heart.

Except she found herself having difficulty in doing so.

Especially when he looked as if it's not just his heart that was broken. It's also like she crushed his very soul.

Back track. Back track. Think, Hilda, think!

She squeezed his hands again, but with much pressure. The action effectively widened his exposed eye. At least no more broken puppy dog looks.

"What I meant to say is that Fhirdiad is your home. But it doesn't mean I'm telling you to go back if you're not ready yet."

Her response seemed to bring back some sparkle in his eyes. Good.

"However, I don't really want you to be like a servant to me!" If she wanted a guard dog she could have just asked Holst anyway. "How about this: I'll let you stay here for a while until you get things settled? Sounds good?"

He seemed hesitant to agree. "But wouldn't that make me a burden for you? Now it seems like I owe more to you. . . How could I repay you, then?"

'Repay me when you're king again' would probably be too soon to say.

"Then I'll let you help out when I need it."

Dimitri still looked unconvinced. "But—"

"Okay, that settles it!" she interrupted with a grin, proceeding to push him towards the bathroom, "Since you're gonna stay here, you gotta make sure to observe proper hygiene! I'm sorry to be blunt again but you reek, Dimitri."

"I'm sorry—"

"No worries! Nothing a little soap, shampoo and water can't fix!" She opened the door for him, giving him one last shove. "Okay, now I'm gonna leave you to your devices—"

Dimitri stopped the door with his hand just before she could close it. The door creaked weirdly.

"Wait."

"Yes?" She gave him a smile that barely reached her eyes. Oh please oh please oh please no longer argue. . .

"T—thank you. . ."

"Don't mention it."

She tried to close the door one more time yet he stopped it again. She was beginning to worry about the weird creaking sound the door was making.

"Let me also take this opportunity to apologize for my actions last night. I had been aggressive and simply assumed things, thinking you kept me alive for selfish reasons."

His response caught her off-guard.

"I had assumed that I was kept alive only so that I could be used in the war, yet it obviously was not the case. . . You risked your life for me and I mistook your good intentions to something ill." He bowed like a chivalrous knight. "That is all. Now if you'll excuse me, I shall do something about this offending odor."

The door closed finally.

Hilda bit her lip, eyes going downcast. What reasons classified as selfish. . ?

She chose not to ponder on it for long, opting to make breakfast to preoccupy herself from thinking about the hasty decisions that she made.

Except minutes later, she discovered she couldn't really avoid it.

She almost dropped her plates when Dimitri emerged from the bathroom with a bare torso, clad only with a pink bath towel that looked too short for him.

Before he could even say anything, she apologized, ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks as she scampered back to her room to look for spare clothes that her brother must've left on one of his visits before.

Dimitri was a dangerous person, she concluded. For entirely different reasons other than his ferocious reputation in the battlefield. Nor his apparent penchant for breaking her furniture.

For such a crazy morning, she could only wish she wouldn't regret her decision.


	3. Chapter 3

Eventually, they managed to have breakfast without any other incident. Dimitri sat across from her looking more decent, wearing Holst's clothes which were almost a perfect fit for him. _Almost_, because the upper garments definitely were a snug fit; the trousers too, actually, it's just that compared to Holst, Dimitri was blessed with a few more centimeters in height so the fabric ended awkwardly a portion above his ankles. For her sanity ( _and Dimitri's well-being of course _), it definitely was better than nothing while his own clothes were in need of washing. Hilda herself was more presentable, as she finally had the time to wash her face with cold water ( _yep, she definitely wasn't dreaming_ ) and fix the tangled mess that had been her hair.

They ate in silence. She wanted to think it was a comfortable sort of silence since. . . _well_, with all the things they spoke about, both of them needed time to think things through. She snuck some glances on him from time-to-time and it seemed like he was engrossed with whatever was on his mind.

Now that she thought about it, it's the first time in a while since she'd eaten breakfast with anybody. She didn't mind that she usually only had the calming presence of the chirping birds outside to keep her company in the morning. . .

Hmm, for a minute there she sounded a lot like Marianne.

Eh, going back, she was not much of a morning person in the first place anyway, so there was no real issue. It would usually take a while for her to jumpstart to her usual chatty self so it was the perfect setup. Lunch and dinner were a different thing because she usually ate out in restaurants and had the company of others, regulars and staff alike.

It dawned on her that starting that day, things were gonna change for her. No more careless walking out from the bathroom butt naked if she ran out of soap, for one. Or anything that would cause unnecessary embarrassment for both of them. Perhaps she better be careful not to do anything inappropriate in front of a royal like Dimitri too, but then again, with everything he had been through and with how he basically offered to serve her for his life, she didn't really think he'd be one to complain.

If anything the new arrangements would have mild inconveniences for her, which she supposed shouldn't be _that_ bad. Perhaps, having a housemate was kind of like her days in Garreg Mach again. She actually wanted to think it was _way _better since there was no Seteth around to nag at her.

Her gaze wandered to Dimitri's plate, which she realized was almost empty compared to hers. Thinking about it, it was likely his first decent meal since he escaped.

"How long must it have been?" she muttered, speaking her thoughts out loud. It was too late for her to realize that she did because Dimitri completely stopped eating and had all his attention on her.

"Pardon?"

Her ears grew warm in embarrassment. No use in backtracking. She was curious, anyway.

"How long has it been since the day you left Fhirdiad?"

He seemed to ponder on it for a bit before his gaze fell. "I'm afraid I can't provide you a concrete answer. I likewise don't have any knowledge of how long I was out since the war ended, or perhaps I didn't really care, that time. I only recall trying to evade Kingdom armies from finding me day and night in Faerghus, until I was able to cross the borders going to the territories of the Leicester Alliance. . . I say, perhaps it's been more than a month."

She nodded, his words sinking in.

"I see."

Without thinking twice, she took her used cutlery in one hand while the other pushed her plate of food towards him. He looked at her questioningly.

"Well, this is for you—"

He pushed the plate back.

"I can't accept."

She pushed it back.

"Oh shush! You need it more than I do. Besides, I'm feeling kind of full already." It was partly a lie; she barely had any spoonfuls but she lost her appetite thinking of the things he had been through.

The plate no longer really moved, because they were both pushing it towards each other.

"Dimitri~" She used her sickeningly sweet voice. There was _no way_ she was letting him win. She heard him sigh.

"Hilda." There was a certain dismissing tone telling her that her methods weren't going to work. It reminded her of a commanding officer. . . Or maybe an immovable rock too.

The poor plate was starting to shake with their little push o' war.

He was just as stubborn as she was.

She thought of a different approach.

"Oh come on. I'm gonna need you to have some energy, y'know?" She nudged her head towards the back door. "We got some work to do later."

She knew she hit him right where she wanted to, because finally, Dimitri allowed the plate to be pushed on his side of the table without any resistance. Success.

She rose from her seat, making her way to the sink to wash her cutlery. She looked at him again with the corners of her eyes, silently rejoicing about how he was eating the portions from her plate.

Except she also noticed something else that turned her happiness into something akin to horror.

"Your face—!"

She marched towards his side, looking closely at the obvious bruise on his cheek. It was hidden in the shadows since they started eating, but now that the sun rays were peeking from the windows, she could very well see it. Thinking about it, she noticed that dark spot when they were outside, but she mistook it for dirt—_what_, he hasn't had a bath in ages!

"It's fine," he assured her, "I deserved it."

She followed his gaze . . . which landed on the wooden ladle with a missing head. Her cheeks had likely turned red. _Whoops._

"That was quite a hit," he said, and then the oddest thing happened: Dimitri chuckled, a rich sound bellowing from his core. It caught her off-guard initially, but she found herself laughing along.

"Well, you really should've seen that coming, barging in uninvited. Next time, I'd appreciate if you just knocked!"

Perhaps they were off to a good start.

* * *

. . . Or perhaps she had been _too_ optimistic. The next few days were decent, for lack of a better word.

After fixing the furniture that needed to be fixed, all of Hilda's daily activities commenced like usual—she made her accessories, she bought things in the market, she drew illustrations, she wrote letters. It was just like any other day, except there was Dimitri living in her house.

She actually wasn't sure what she was expecting, living under the same roof as him. He wasn't acting like a bother, only really speaking when spoken to. He wasn't overly nosy like she thought he'd be and would only really intervene if he must. He wasn't even making her do any other work. Dimitri, pretty much, was acting like a perfect good boy.

She didn't know what to make of that.

Now, on paper, his disposition wasn't supposed to be a bad thing, especially for someone like Hilda who abhorred any unnecessary effort to be exerted. In fact, it should have been perfect, and yet that very thought had been sitting on her mind even as she slept, making it difficult for her to fall into slumber.

Looking back at the previous days, she didn't even feel the 'mild inconveniences' that she was expecting to happen. Because all her days pretty much were the same—the difference was just Dimitri on her side, literally. Like a convenient, super accessory that she could just summon so he'd materialize himself and do all the heavy work for her, like carrying her food supplies, transferring her firewood, reaching for stuff in her high cupboard and the like.

She realized she was bothered about it.

Because Dimitri wasn't an accessory. He was a _person_. And the past few days, she realized she didn't feel like she was staying _with _a person. . . That laugh that he did on the first day was apparently a rare occurrence too. On most days, he felt . . . _empty_, just as he described himself.

How then would she be able to fill that void?

_Talking_, she knew. Communication was the key.

But how should she even start?

Perhaps, her frustrations also rooted from the fact that despite 'talking' being part of her skill set, she had been finding herself speechless in his presence. It was usually Hilda's role to fill in voids of silences, yet for the first time in a while, she was at a loss. Had living alone affected that ability of hers? Or was there just something about Dimitri's situation that was making her hesitant?

Their first day had been different, she realized, since there were immediate things to talk about, like the door he broke hard and the cheek that she smacked hard. Those weren't exactly topics that required extended exchanges in dialogue, because by the end of the day the door was fixed and his cheek was healing. She wouldn't really want to resort to breaking stuff again just so they had something to talk about.

She ended up falling asleep with a troubled mind.

The next morning, she decided she needed to do something about it.

They stood in the kitchen in silence, chopping vegetables beside each other.

Something she just realized was despite living with each other, they were barely acquaintances. _Sure_, she knew he was King of Faerghus, and _sure_, he must've known she was a noble from House Goneril—because how else could he have singled out their territory and located her if he hadn't—and that was basically it. It frustrated her that despite knowing really next to nothing about her, he pretty much offered his life in her service like food on a platter.

It pissed her off.

In her annoyance she chopped the vegetable—the innocent carrot—with greater force. The action seemed to startle Dimitri, who she knew had turned to her and looked wide-eyed. His mouth opened seemingly to say something, yet nothing came out. If she had been bothered by his reaction, she didn't show because she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts.

_These Kingdom knights and their blind chivalry!_ What if she was a bad person and took advantage of his kindness?! Not to say she was a perfect person of course, but it made her recall her conclusion of never bending the knee for him and it made her feel . . . y'know, _bad_. It effectively alleviated her anger, though it was immediately replaced with guilt.

_Talking_, she reminded herself. She needed to start talking.

But how? She was back to square one. Some things in common they had was (1) they were both enrolled in the Officers' Academy and (2) they killed in the war. The latter, she doubted he wanted to talk about it ( _and neither would she anyway_ ), so it left her with choice number 1.

But where should she even start? Her school life had always been Golden Deer-centric, so she wasn't sure what events he would've enjoyed as part of the Blue Lions. She wasn't even certain if she should even talk about school because school meant Edelgard and it seemed to be a sensitive topic for him to talk about. . . Definitely not a good starting topic.

Argh! This was getting so frustrating!

She chopped the last piece with much force that it must've produced a dent on her chopping board.

"Hilda. . ?"

"Dimitri," she started. He did not respond, waiting patiently for her to talk. She noticed he was warily watching the knife in her hand. She immediately put it down after connecting how ominous she must've looked.

She sighed. There was no use in overthinking. Perhaps she just needed to be direct-to-the-point.

"I want to get to know you more, so whatever's on your mind, don't hesitate to speak out, okay?"

Based from his surprised look, it wasn't what he seemed to be expecting to hear.

"I can only talk so much sometimes," she added, "So help me out, please?"

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

There was another round of silence before he spoke again.

"I can't really taste food well," he admitted, "I can follow a recipe, but I'm rather hesitant to do it by myself if I know others will taste it. It's the reason why I prefer just helping out in cooking."

Her eyebrows rose. One thing she noticed was that among the household chores they did, he was obviously reluctant in cooking. She initially dismissed that it was likely just his preference for heavy physical labor, but with his revelation, she supposed it did make sense.

Hilda found herself smiling.

This . . . was much better.

"Then, it's best to leave the bulk of cooking to me. Ugh, that would be such a pain, though. . ." When she realized that he took her dramatics seriously, judging with how crestfallen he was at himself, she immediately retracted. "I was joking, Dimitri! See, I don't really feel troubled at all!"

She made a mental note that cooking is part of the mild inconveniences she had to do. But it shouldn't really be an inconvenience since she'd been doing it since she was there. Another mental note was not to tease him _too much_ next time.

On the brighter side, she was delighted . . . because slowly, she began to see more color in his eyes.

* * *

The following days had been better than decent. Above average, maybe? She mostly initiated conversations, but she could see Dimitri was trying.

"Why do you live alone?" he asked her one day.

She didn't immediately respond, thinking about what he meant with the question. Was he simply curious at her choice of solidarity, or was he indirectly asking why she didn't have "anyone" in particular with her? After all, she was at the age where most women got married and settled with someone, or at the very least were in a relationship or engaged.

"I mean, I saw the estate of Goneril with my own eyes. Surely it should be large enough for both you and Duke Goneril, your brother—" His eyes trailed off, widening, realizing he might have overstepped his bounds. "Of course, if the reasons are too personal, I will not force you to tell me."

Hilda quickly caught on with his assumptions and clarified.

"Oh no, my brother didn't kick me out or anything. He and I are pretty close, actually. This is my personal choice."

"I see."

"Besides, politics has never really been for me, anyway. Being there meant I have to act all prim and proper for any visitors. I mean sure, I love dressing up and all for the occasion, but all the talks about negotiations and stuff? Not really my thing. "

Dimitri seemed to be genuinely interested in hearing her out.

"Well, what is your '_thing_," if there is any?"

Again it took her awhile before responding, if only due to hearing Dimitri echo her street words. Dimitri on the other hand mistook her silence for discomfort.

"Again, if I am overstepping, please don't be pressured to speak—"

"I want to build my own school," she blurted out. Her own response should've surprised her, because it took her three letters sent by Marianne to reveal her biggest dream to her friend. "I don't know, maybe the professor inspired me. If a mercenary like Byleth could teach skills for war, it's possible for someone like me to teach about something I think I'm good at, right?"

Dimitri had an idea about her passion for accessory-making, so she knew he knew what she was talking about. He made a sound of affirmation.

"That is a nice dream. . . So how is your path in attaining it?"

She laughed sheepishly. "Well, there's no path, really. Because I haven't done anything about it."

"Why is that?" he asked, seemingly disappointed.

"The problem is me." She shrugged. "I guess that's also the reason why I wanted to live alone. If there are people who do things to my bidding like when I'm at home, I wouldn't get motivated at all because I'd let others do it for me. If I'm by myself, I guess I could be far more productive, because, _well_, I'm pretty much forced to. And it's also a whole lot different to be free."

She was expecting him to nod and clarify further, but to her surprise, he stood up.

"Then is my presence serving as a hindrance to your productivity?" he questioned, face determined to leave should she order it. She quickly stood and shook her head, pulling him down to sit again.

"No, no! That's why I told you I don't need you as a servant. If anything I really appreciate your presence."

She realized she was still holding his hands. She awkwardly let go, sensing how strangely intimate it must've been, the warmth lingering in her palms.

"I mean, the downside of living alone is that I have all the time to myself, that sometimes I forget what it means to be productive too. You being here . . . reminds me not to go lazing about too much."

"Well, then it's a great honor to be a reminder for you to be productive."

She would've laughed, but resisted since she knew he was being completely serious. It reminded her that she probably needed to teach him not to be too serious and to relax once in a while too.

It was after a month that Hilda decided that it was time to give him a little field trip.

Of course, she was aware of the risks of such a decision—after all, Dimitri was a "missing" person, a missing "big" person to be specific, literally and figuratively.

By that she meant he was a missing king of a known land who also had such a commanding presence, height and all. And while it's probably still a secret that the king had actually gone missing, it didn't rule out the possibility of Rodrigue's men looking for him. And while her end goal was to _actually_ have him back in his home land, she preferred that he did so willingly, not by force. And for him to go home willingly, she needed to bring back some humanity in him. And to bring back some humanity in him, she needed to let him relax. And to have him relax, she needed to let him experience things he loved. And based on the information that she managed to fish from him the past few days, one of those things happened to be horseback riding.

Therefore, a field trip. He had been inside her cabin for days anyway and she felt some sunlight would be good for him.

Going back to the risks, of course she had plans for such contingencies. That was the purpose of the cloaks, for both him and her, because her luscious pink locks were unfortunately attention-seeking and she'd rather not have her identity exposed too; surely Holst would worry if gossips of his sister riding a horse with a mysterious man started spreading. Of course, it would be better if they could avoid people altogether, so she needed to consider the perfect place too. . .

Then she remembered that there was a bigger factor she needed to consider: Dimitri himself. Or rather, his willingness to go on a field trip.

Because with how self-deprecating he was, she knew he would be against going out if he found out that she was doing it for him.

Hilda knew just the solution. She learned a thing or two about scheming from staying close to Claude, after all.

She just needed to make it seem like the field trip was for her, and that she required his help. After some internal deliberation, she decided on her plan: they would go Fódlan's Throat to gather flowers for her creations. It was like hitting two birds with one stone.

Then it brought her to the next problem. The horse.

She only had one horse. Okay, _sure_, maybe they could go ride her horse together . . . it would make her "asking for help" more convincing if he witnessed her mediocre riding skills. But it wasn't even her main concern: her horse was being cared for by her neighbors, who owned a stable. Which meant going to said neighbor. Which meant directly confronting the questions that surely her neighbors had.

There was no helping it, she supposed. She knew she couldn't hide her secret forever. Especially for a secret as big as Dimitri. Literally. Why did he have to be so big?

"Lady Hilda! It's nice to see you," the elderly woman greeted. She returned the greeting to the old couple with the same warmth. They briefly exchange pleasantries until they reached the topic she was anticipating them to ask her about.

"We don't want to be nosy, but we can't help but notice that you haven't been alone in your little home lately," the elderly man said, "Has the general finally convinced you to have a bodyguard?"

She was about to agree that "yes, that was _exactly_ the case, so may I please get my horse?" but then she remembered how the couple kept close tabs with her brother. That sort of information was something she knew they'd casually tell Holst and she could just imagine her brother suddenly barging in one day and ask about this "bodyguard" that he didn't even know of.

No, _no_. That would be a total disaster.

She had to consider a different option.

She twirled her hair around her finger, feigning embarrassment.

"Well, not exactly a bodyguard . . . since, um, we do loads of _other_ things together," she ended with a suggestive tone.

"Oh?" The elderly woman's eyes lit up. "_Oh_!"

Hilda hid a mischievous smile. Just where she wanted to lead them.

The elderly man laughed, catching on. "Ah, youth!"

"And I'd appreciate if you'd keep it a secret between us. Don't worry, I plan to tell Holst eventually, but you know how overprotective he can be." She grabbed the woman's hand and squeezed it gently. "Can I keep your word on it? Please oh please~"

"Of course, of course! Our lips are sealed!"

Perfect.

Technically, it wouldn't classify as lying because she didn't even outrightly say what sort of relationship she and Dimitri had; it was all just assumptions made by a kind elderly couple. No biggie.

Eventually, she managed to take her horse. As she approached her cabin, she witnessed the curious glances Dimitri was giving her.

"You and your neighbors seem close."

She laughed, agreeing. But not as close as I implied the two of us to be, she thought.

When Hilda absolutely thought she had everything under control, she soon found herself swallowing her own words. Funny, because she should've seen it coming, with all her talk about 'closeness,' yet it was among the things which was pulling herself apart at that very moment. Perhaps her scheming skills needed some work, because she too overlooked her discomfort at the very thing they were about to do.

Truthfully, she wasn't fond of riding horses—wyverns and pegasus much more because she didn't like heights—but it was one of the accessible forms of transportation in that era so that was unavoidable, especially during wartime. Hilda wasn't a stranger to doing things she didn't like, so it was something she tolerated because her life depended on it.

She was tolerating it, all right, but she was far from comfortable, and it was something Dimitri likely noticed because of how stiff she was.

"Are you okay?" she heard him say behind her, "I know you told me that you needed help, but I never realized that . . ."

"—it was _this_ bad?" she completed for him. It made sense for her, of course, since the professor never really focused on that skill when they were at the academy. That wasn't her fault! "Well, I, I just don't understand why it's so jittery! I feel like I'm gonna fall off any second."

Dimitri nonchalantly placed his hand over hers, taking control of the reins. Just like that, their ride went in a steadier pace. "Well, horses are sensitive creatures. They feel your tension, that's why it's likely feeling that way too."

She stared at the hands holding hers, and the arms around her. It was somehow . . . comforting, being in his presence. She somehow felt secure.

"That makes sense. It's likely nervous too because admittedly, it's been a long time since I've ridden it." The reason Holst left her a horse was so she could visit the palace any time; that hadn't happened yet because she was too lazy to. "I always preferred swinging my axe while running on foot, anyway."

The comfort was eventually replaced with an odd sensation that she refused to acknowledge, which grew more as she became conscious of his breathing behind her, his nice smell—which was super _weird_, because technically they used the same soap, so why did she find it oddly satisfying? In no time, she became aware of his overall presence surrounding her, which was oh _so _close. . . She tried to ignore them all, though, instead focusing on looking ahead and giving him instructions. It was somehow effective, and it was a good thing Dimitri kept talking about the art of caring for horses.

They reached their destination soon enough, an area at Fódlan's Throat where beautiful flowers bloomed. Hilda wasted no time in jumping off her horse, scurrying to a nearby bed of flowers. She was about to instruct him to pick flowers with her when she saw him looking at the horizons in awe, seemingly lost in thought. She decided to leave him be for the time being.

They eventually left the area, and managed to make it back to the cabin without any issues. They rested and ate dinner. In the process, Hilda took note of his happier disposition, so she felt happier too. Their little field trip was a success, even if perhaps her ego had been the price to pay. Though she figured it shouldn't have bothered her, anyway, since she should be used to it for all the favors done for her in her life.

She carried the box containing all the flowers they collected and walked to her room. She was ready to tell him 'good night' and completely retire to her quarters to do her own thing when she had an idea. She invited Dimitri to come in with her.

When he hesitated, telling her how improper that would be, she rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, come on, Dimitri. We're a grown man and woman. We aren't in school anymore."

Realizing what that insinuated, she blushed.

"Anyway, that's not even what I meant anyway! I'm going to teach you something. My tools are in my room so it's easier to do it here."

He finally relented, entering her room.

"This isn't even your first time here, right?" she pointed out, "That night you attacked me, you carried me all the way here when I fell asleep, right?"

"Well, I couldn't just leave you on the cold floor. . ."

She nodded, chuckling. "I knew it. You forgot to cover me with a blanket though, so I was cold either way."

Realizing his mistake, she knew he'd say sorry but she stopped him before he could.

"No need to apologize. I mean, if you kept me warm, I wouldn't have discovered you immediately and you would've been cold outside, right?"

He seemed to want to say something, but she began to guide him to her work desk, where she pulled another chair for him to sit on.

The next few moments involved her demonstrating simple bead work, along with preserving beautiful petals inside small bottles using resin. Dimitri was surprisingly an eager student, watching her intently, though the enthusiasm seemed to die down when he was doing the process himself.

Understandable, since he already broke three small bottles with his hands.

"Let's try again," she remarked, handing him another bottle. He shook his head.

"I, I think we should stop for tonight."

"Oh, don't worry about that." She shoved the bottle in his hand. "I got lots of spares so just keep on trying."

"O-okay, but one last bottle and no more. . ."

He scanned the collection of petals in front of them, choosing the one with a nice shade of royal blue. She initially observed him while she did her own work, quietly stealing glances. Eventually, she no longer heard the sounds of glass breaking and she felt a little bit proud.

"I think you are amazing, Hilda."

It made her stop working. She turned to him, expecting him to look at her, yet he seemed so focused on his work.

"For you to be able to handle such delicate work despite your strength, it's really admirable."

Now, Hilda loved receiving compliments. She wasn't a stranger to receiving them especially from her admirers in Garreg Mach. They made her feel good, but at the same time, she knew they were being said because they wanted her to feel good. Of course there were likely some who were being totally honest about their words, but she thought they were all just the same too. Because the ending was that they liked her.

It's a different story if it's said so casually, as if it was just a simple fact. Compliments like those, with seemingly no ulterior motive . . . hit her critically.

Dimitri's sincerity would probably end her soon.

"Strength?" She decided to focus on that bit for her sanity. "Whatever do you mean? I'm just a delicate flower."

"Oh, I wouldn't call you that."

Hmm, that was a rather cheeky response. She didn't expect that from him. Dimitri seemed to have caught on with his tone, and immediately retracted his statement.

"Well, at least that's what I heard you saying before. . . In Gronder Field."

She gasped. "Hey! I wasn't talking to you back then!"

"Besides, if you are a delicate flower, I do not know what that would make me." He glanced away in embarrassment. She didn't need to clarify; she knew he was pertaining to her little carrying stint in Gronder Field.

"Well, that must've been from the adrenaline." She didn't really think she was strong. . . Though she did have to carry the professor for Claude that one time too. Maybe Claude was just a little weak?

The brittle sound of cracking was heard. She looked to see Dimitri holding the cork bottle cover on one hand and shattered pieces of glass and resin on the other.

"It's fine, Hilda. Don't think you're an incapable teacher because of me, though. I'm merely an incapable student."

"Oh, don't say that. Then it means I'm a hopeless teacher if I can't help an 'incapable' student like you, so you better be trying your hardest!"

Dimitri's brows furrowed. "Why does it seem like the pressure has been focused on me now?"

She stuck out her tongue. "Well you started it!"

"But seriously, if you could teach someone like me, I have no doubt you can for those who would like to pursue something like this for a living." The corners of his lips curved up. "I think . . . you are capable of doing great things."

Her heart fluttered with warmth as she heard it. At the same time, she felt sad, hearing it coming from him. She thought of the people waiting for him, those he could potentially serve with selflessness and kindness he obviously possessed yet he couldn't see.

_"I think you do, too," _she wanted to blurt out, yet she didn't. . Perhaps, it was too soon to say? She wasn't certain. The night went on, with her wondering about it.


	4. Chapter 4

Ever since Dimitri had risen up from his deep slumber in Fhirdiad, he never really felt like he had truly woken up. Every movement seemed like he was simply drifting, and had it not been for his emotions that would sprout in different situations, he did not think he'd reach anywhere.

That changed when Hilda entered the picture, because for the first time in what he felt the longest time, his life had some clarity. For the first time he felt like having a purpose, looking forward to every morning, if only to do the minuscule things that she had given him the pleasure to do for her. Her presence had been like a ray of sunshine that struck him in a long dark winter night.

But the light could only do so much, especially when the thing it's trying to thaw was a monster with impregnable walls. A monster that very well knew that he could crumble those walls, yet refused to. A monster like himself did not deserve to indulge in such warmth, and a monster like himself knew he could not keep on relying on her forever.

He remembered the horizons, the vast skies and fields when they visited Fodlan's Throat. How the imagery calmed his being. How the winds did not feel suffocating at all. It stirred something inside him, an emotion he couldn't name, or perhaps he had long forgotten. Then again he had not felt many emotions in the longest time . . .

Rage. Rage was the most familiar one. It was what drove him to travel to different lands, borders through borders. Fueled him to seek answers for his existence.

Oftentimes, he cursed at his own bloodlust, his mad quest for revenge that made him do questionable crimes. It's what had turned him into a monster.

But had it not been for that, he didn't think he'd have been driven to escape from prison after being framed for the death of his own uncle. He didn't think he would've been able to push himself forward after Dedue sacrificed himself just so he could escape from his execution. He didn't think he'd have the capability to fend off hordes of bandits and thieves charging at him all by himself. In a way, his mad drive had saved his own life on different occasions.

That monster—it was already part of who he was, no matter what he did.

And it was for that very reason that he wanted to die if he could.

And yet there he was, living, _breathing_, despite the numbness that he felt all over him.

_`Live, Dimitri, live.'_

When Hilda said those words, his anger was replaced with uncertainty. Did he even deserve that, after all he had done? How would a monster like him be able to live with peace? Live in the way he wanted when whispers of the dead buzzed endlessly through his ears, reminding him that he could never really escape from that despair?

But he still tried. He was trying, _really_, if only just to honor Hilda's request of him, as somebody who he owed his life to. Perhaps, he had been making progress, because on some occasions he could feel his senses returning, each time Hilda tried reaching out to him. The feeling was fleeting however, since the second he was alone, he would drown in his own thoughts, the familiar numbness enveloping him, just like at that very moment.

Living . . . Does a monster like him even have a place for an era of peace?

"Perhaps, the war has turned all of us involved into monsters in some ways."

Hilda's response surprised him. It happened one night when neither of them could not fall asleep, or. . . Hilda, at least. Dimitri hadn't been able to experience deep sleep for the longest time. He stirred awake at the slightest sound, and despite the numbers of layers on his body, the feeling of the cold air seeped against his fabrics, preventing him from returning to slumber easily. Months of being on the run, for both his survival and freedom, likely contributed to that.

He listened as she confided her deepest thoughts, narrating how she had slaughtered anyone in the way of their goal, swinging her axe and cutting limbs, and how she even had the audacity to chant her own name after the deed was done as if it were a game. She admitted she wasn't even certain why she did; perhaps it had been her twisted way of coping with the mess that they didn't even want in the first place.

"I don't know," her voice cracked, and he knew she was trying to contain her tears. "Is that wrong, when I just wanted to live? If I didn't swing my weapon, wasn't I the one who'd meet my end? Because those soldiers, they had merely been following orders. But we were too, weren't we? If we hadn't fought back, would we have been able to achieve the peace that we have right now?"

Perhaps he understood in some way. Their goals differed however. He had been fighting to avenge the dead, those who were helpless and no longer able to strike back at the injustices they endured. . .

. . . Except he himself wasn't even able to do anything about it. In the end, it's the Alliance who did the job for him. While they had been fighting for the future, he had been fighting for the past. What purpose did avenging the dead serve, then? Had he been really short-sighted?

Hilda kept on talking, even as tears were streaming down her face. Dimitri's hand twitched, yet it didn't move any further, making him resent himself more. Clouds had gathered in his ray of light, and yet he couldn't do anything to push them away. He was never really good at offering comfort, nor he felt he deserved to provide comfort. It shouldn't at all come from someone like him. . .

"Perhaps we're just unlucky, y'know? Being born and growing up to be the generation's soldiers to fight the war."

He pondered on her words. It simply meant this was their fate, wasn't it? His downfall had already been stitched by the threads of destiny, for all the errors he made, for failing to fulfill his promises. . .

Dimitri looked at his hands. They may be pale, clean, but every time he stared, he saw flashes of red on them.

"The children born in this era of great change are lucky they never have to experience any of those. And it makes me think that all the fighting, all those efforts, they were worth it, y'know? This war may have turned us into monsters, but at least we avoided that sort of fate to fall upon the future generations."

He figured that made sense. And yet. . .

"What about the dead?"

Her eyes, swollen from crying, was looking at him. "What about them?"

"I can't find myself thinking forward because of them. I'm afraid of forgetting them, all those faces of the people I killed and all the people I failed to save. It doesn't seem right at all for me to turn my back on them. . ."

"But . . .if you keep coming back, then you would never really bring them peace either. Like I told you, we just gotta live. Live in the present. Perhaps you can go pray for them or something for some peace of mind, but really, there's nothing we can do but to go forward."

He looked at his hands. They were trembling.

Was it really right for him to move forward?

The whispers, he began to hear them again.

Until Hilda spoke once more.

"Back then, you asked me why I saved you."

Focus. He focused on her voice.

"Let's say that Claude did command me. What would you have done?"

He soon regretted his decision of listening intently, because the statement struck him with intense grim, slowly engulfing his core.

That time, he had thought of it, of course. Blinded by anger, he had thought of going straight to Almyra to face Claude if his assumptions were correct. Even if it meant marching towards his death.

"Or what if told you. . . that I had lied, back then? That I saved you upon Claude's commands?"

He _detested_ deceitful people.

It couldn't be.

Hilda . . . she could not have, right? With all her kindness, sincerity that she had shown for the past days he had been with her. . .

He looked into her eyes to see it shining not with fear, but with sadness.

"I have always wondered what you would've done to me that time. Would you . . . have killed me, too?"

There was something in the way she looked at him too. . . Something that was hoping he would give her an answer that she was looking for.

He looked at his hands again. It had turned red, not with blood, but with how his fingers dug fiercely in his palms.

"Of course not. Then you would haunt me too, would you not?" He lowered his head, grabbing his hair in frustration. "And what purpose would that serve, killing you? . . . Wouldn't that only bring unnecessary cycles of death and hatred?"

"Then, isn't that similar to the answers you are looking for? Whatever reasons no longer matter, because they had all been in the past. Therefore it is better to look forward to the future. We only live once, after all. Better now wallow in the past."

With her words he felt her hands above his, tenderly, firmly trying to appease his grip on his own hair.

"You know, Dimitri, I daydream a lot. I like to imagine possibilities of having a normal school life, where we had all graduated and are having a reunion, somewhere. I also imagined possibilities of having supernatural powers . . . Something like rewinding time."

The next thing he knew was that she had captured his hands around hers.

"But even with that sort of ability I doubt it would be easy to locate a path where total bloodshed could be prevented at all. . . There's just too much going on. I realized there's really nothing we could do about the tragedies that already happened. Perhaps one thing we _can_ do is to move forward and try our best to prevent them from happening again."

Her hands, they were so small compared to his, yet it held him with gentle firmness. They felt so warm, and he felt like he was willing to let himself melt in them.

Perhaps, between the two of them, he really was the delicate one. . .

"You have a choice on what you want to do," she said, mustering up a smile, "Don't let anyone dictate otherwise."

She then flinched, chuckling sheepishly.

". . . Although, I pretty much dictated that, didn't I? Scratch that statement, I guess! But you get what I mean!"

He recalled the horizons again. Compared to the boundless skies, he felt small. It brought a sense of comfort in him, that he was perhaps capable of doing many things in such a wide world.

And then he saw her smile, encouraging him to recognize that little flicker hidden deep in his heart.

Hope, was that feeling 'hope?'

He nodded. Deep inside him, he realized, deep in his heart, he knew there was a strong desire to live. Live in ways that weren't dictated by anyone.

"Thank you, Hilda. Thank you. . ."

He couldn't muster anything else as he allowed the large burden to be finally lifted off his soul.

The next morning, Hilda woke up a little later than usual. Which was to be expected, since their talk lasted until the earliest hours of the morning.

If staying up that late affected her in any way, it didn't show, because she greeted him with a cheery "good morning."

He allowed himself the luxury of returning the greeting with much more sincerity.

"Good morning," he said with a smile. It strained his muscles to do so, yet he tried.

If Hilda noticed how awkward he must've looked, she didn't point it out; instead, she returned a bigger smile, and gestured for him to help her with breakfast.

* * *

He could still hear the voices sometimes, he admitted to her one day, when she told him to tell her if she was being too noisy.

"That's why I really appreciate you speaking with me," he continued, "Hearing your voice relaxes me."

He could've sworn a little color flushed on her cheeks when he said it.

"Oh, I hope you don't regret ever saying that when you realize how much of a chatterbox I really am!"

Honestly, he did not think he would ever get tired of it.

She asked him, if he did not mind, whose voices were speaking to him.

His father. Glenn. Those people he killed. Those people he failed to save.

"Sometimes, I wonder why Dedue had never spoken to me. . . not even once."

"Dedue?" she asked with a hint of surprise.

"Yes, Dedue," he affirmed, his eyes lowering. "I saw the guards coming after him when he allowed me to escape—"

"Dedue," she interrupted, "He fought Edelgard with us. And survived as it ended."

She looked at him solemnly.

"I'm not sure where he is now, though. . ."

Something warm overcame his heart. He was happy? Relieved? Overjoyed? He wasn't certain.

In the past, he may have succumbed to the feeling of helplessness; instead, he allowed a different emotion to come through.

Hope. It was the feeling of hope that shone.

Perhaps, it was enough to know that Dedue survived it. Meaning a possibility that he lived existed, and in that possibility he could clung onto. . . Somehow, he was sure they would meet again one day.

* * *

Hilda decided to bring him to Fódlan's Throat again to gather more flowers. Apparently, while less flowers bloomed in the Red Wolf Moon, there were rare ones that sprouted and survived the chillier winds.

He continued to instruct her in riding, even as she complained that she "wasn't cut out for that sort of thing."

"See, you managed to do it," he said once they reached their destination, "To be completely honest, I was waiting if you would hand over the reins to me, but you never did."

"Well, you never really offered." She jumped off the horse first, crossing her arms and facing him as she pouted. "So I made you suffer with me!"

It was truthfully a bumpier ride than usual, unnecessarily so.

He chuckled, causing Hilda to give him a peculiar look.

He coughed, trying to halt his laughter. "Forgive me, it's rather unbecoming of me to tease you like that. The important thing is that we endured it—"

"If it would get you to laugh again like that, then by all means, please be unbecoming with me."

To say he was surprised was an understatement.

"T-that is unthinkable! I could not possibly—"

It was her turn to laugh, like a calm melody that flowed against the wind.

"Dimitri, what did I tell you about being too serious?"

Before he could muster a response, she turned her back on him, her hair tousling in an enthralling way against the different pastel spots on the field.

"I won't always give you a free pass, though. Sometimes is okay. I have an image to uphold; I am just a maiden too, after all!"

She stopped in her tracks, looking back to him and waving her hand for him to come close.

"Come on, we have beautiful flowers to collect!"

He followed, commencing on his quest to find flowers that would match the strong radiance that she exuded.

* * *

It was at the first week of the Ethereal Moon when Dimitri witnessed Hilda in such a panicked state.

"What's wrong?" He had seen her anxieties during their horse riding trips, but never had he seen her so visibly tense. She was all over the place that the feelings were spreading onto him too.

"It's _him_, I swear it's him!"

The vagueness didn't help in quelling the uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"Who?"

"Holst, my brother!"

Dimitri tried peeking through the windows, only managing to catch a glimpse of her neighbors speaking to a man with an unmistakable shade of hair similar to Hilda's before she successfully pulled him away.

"No, no, bad idea! My brother has good eyes. He might see you."

Hilda was in deep thought, nervously fiddling her fingers. He made a proposition.

"While the neighbors are distracting him, should I run away?"

"No, he'd surely see you coming out from the front or back door."

Hilda turned to the windows.

He shook his head vehemently.

"I'm not sure I'd fit. Unless we break them, but I am against unnecessary breaking."

"Yeah, plus it would make too much noise anyway. It would raise more questions."

He was sure they both reached the same conclusion:

They were trapped.

Therefore, they had no other choice but to hide him inside the cabin.

Hilda considered the bathroom, but no, there was only one and it would be too risky if Holst needed to use it.

She dragged him to her room. She also considered her closet, but he was too big to fit in.

Under her bed? No, he wouldn't fit either. . .

He had questioned the goddess many times already, yet it was the first time he asked why she had to bless him with such a build.

Hilda's eyes brightened.

"Oh, I know!"

She pushed him onto her bed, gesturing him to lie down and move further to the edge until his back touched wall. After instructing him to turn around, she pulled her comforters and laid it over his body. He no longer really saw anything but the wall in front of him. He also felt something soft being placed over his entire body. Pillows?

"Okay, I need you to stay there. Don't move unless I tell you the coast is clear."

He made a sound in agreement, just as he heard a knock from the outside. He heard Hilda's footsteps scurrying away, as well as the distinct sound of her slamming shut her bedroom door.

He waited, trying to still his breathing as he heard muffled sounds of two people speaking. He couldn't make out what they were saying. Still, he concentrated, trying not to do any major movements from his spot. What he was doing was like meditation. Except he was lying down sideways, under a heavy blanket, with pillows, with the fragrant scent of flowers . . . It took much of his willpower not to completely fall asleep . . .

Until he heard Hilda's strained voice. "Wait, not in there—"

Then the door—he was certain it was the bedroom door—slammed open. Dimitri tensed.

"Ah I see you redecorated it," the other voice whom he assumed to be Holst said, "Pretty nice, I must say."

"Holst. . ."

"Why are you so tense, anyway? Afraid I'll tell you not to be lazy again? Your room is surprisingly clean, actually."

"You can't just barge into people's rooms." He could imagine her crossing her arms as she said it.

"Hmm? You barge into my room uninvited all the time."

"Well, that's different! I'm a girl, y'know!"

He heard footsteps approaching, but it was far heavier for him to safely assume it belonged to Hilda. He gulped.

Then he felt the mattress bouncing, as if someone jumped on it, along with someone's weight against his back.

"Oh no no _no_, not my bed. You just walked all the way here from the marketplace, right? Don't wanna have you cover my sheets with your icky sweat! I just changed them!"

Dimitri felt guilty. He was certain he had been sweating with the warmth of several layers over him. He made a mental note to remind her that he would wash her bed sheets and comforters despite the cold weather.

"Fine, fine," came the resigned tone of Holst. He heard the sound of a wooden chair scraping the floor. He must've decided to just stay seated near her desk. "Oh, you still do your accessories, huh? How's your business?"

He heard Hilda sighed heavily. Now he was certain it was her head resting against him.

"It's doing great, thanks for asking. But I told you that in my last letter, haven't I? What's with the surprise visit, anyway?"

"I'm just worried about you. It's been a while since I last saw you. You haven't visited even once."

"Well, now you see I'm completely fine, right? Sorry for worrying you. I'm just busy . . . with some stuff."

"Stuff like . . . your academy?"

"Well no, not that."

"Then what?"

She didn't answer. Holst sighed.

"Hilda, I know I said that our funds can't afford something big as that right now, but it doesn't mean I'm not supportive. I did tell you we'll find ways—"

"It's really fine, brother. I really think I'm not ready yet." Her voice trailed off, "That's just . . . too much work, anyway."

The two of them kept on talking about different matters. Dimitri tried not to listen too much, feeling he was intruding their private conversation. Instead, he closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing, trying to sync it with Hilda's to be completely unnoticeable by the other occupant of the room.

The next thing he knew, cool air was trickling his exposed skin. Slowly, he blinked his single eye open, just to realize that the blanket and pillows no longer covered his head.

_Oh no_. He had fallen asleep.

Slowly, he turned his head, just to see Hilda watching him with a playful smile.

"Rise and shine, Your Highness!"

He immediately sat up, scanning the surroundings.

"Your brother?"

"Oh, he left already. Probably an hour since he did."

So it was likely an hour since he had fallen asleep too. . .

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, looking away in embarrassment.

"Well, you were sleeping soundly. I didn't have the heart to wake you up." She let her head fall on the pillow which was back on its original place, so they were lying parallel to each other. "Besides, this is the first time I've seen you sleep! It's such a rare sight. I mean in the morning, by the time I wake up, you're already awake."

He decided to dismiss the issue, knowing he wouldn't really win against her. He turned his gaze to the book on her hands instead, which she noticed.

"Oh, this?" she said, waving it slightly, "Holst gave this to me. Book about the basics on school management and whatnot. Just some technicalities that he thought might help me in reaching my dreams. He's rather insistent."

"Then," he began carefully, "What is really pulling you back from attaining it?"

She continued staring at the ceiling. "I just . . . don't want to dive myself in something I'm not so certain of. For something as big as establishing an academy, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to pull it off and end up disappointing all those who tried to help me."

It made Dimitri think back at his own experiences. He was the type of person who, when something was set on his mind, would try, with every fibre of his being, to attain it.

"Well, you'll never really know unless you try," he responded, "Take it from me, I guess. Even with my biggest failure, here am I, and. . ."

He stopped to think. What was he supposed to say? Even after failing to chase his goals, especially with those goals eventually ending up being fulfilled by someone else, there he was, escaping his own responsibilities in his hometown, hiding away in a different territory and living off from someone's hard work.

"Forget what I said. I'm probably not a very good example, am I?"

She giggled, most likely catching on with his thoughts. "Still, I appreciate your sentiments and intentions."

She turned her body so she was completely facing him.

"But you know, it's not really too late for you, either. After all, you're still alive."

He pondered on her words. It's not too late for him to what? What dreams were really worth chasing after all that had happened?

"Have you thought about them, Dimitri? Do you have any dreams too?"

His first thought was Fhirdiad . . . Faerghus.

But would the people still be able to accept him after he turned his back on them? Or would it perhaps be better to chase after a completely different dream instead?

"Well, you don't really have to answer now. That sort of question requires some thinking, I guess."

"Since I don't have a definite answer now, I am sure of one thing, however." He firmly placed his hand over his chest, right where his heart was. "With my role as your reminder for productivity, I wish to tell you that you definitely have my support in fulfilling your dreams."

She smiled. "That's very sweet of you. Thanks."

She sluggishly rested her hands under her cheek.

"But you know what, thinking about it, for someone with intense determination like you, I guess I could take some pointers. That would help, really. . ."

She then yawned.

"Actually, all those talking and reading made me sleepy. I guess it's a perfect time to nap. . ."

And just like that, she shut her eyes, seemingly not minding how he was right beside her.

"I don't wanna hear any talks about stuff being improper," she dismissed, as if reading his mind, "It's fine. . . You know, I used to nap with Annette too at the academy. . . I certainly miss those days. . . So warm . . . Wish it's like this always. . . Dreaming of dreaming. . ."

Eventually she no longer said anything, and he watched her steady breathing. The bigger, reasonable part in him said that he should leave carefully, and go back to his spot at the common area. The other unreasonable part, however, reminded him that the cabin was cool from the winter winds, and that the bed was so comfy, warm, very much inviting.

He carefully placed the blanket over her shoulders—he would not repeat the same mistake as before, leaving her cold.

He recalled his conversations with her, with how she told him that it's okay to indulge themselves in things they enjoy once in a while.

He then sighed.

_Just this once_, he thought, as he carefully let his body collapse onto the bed, content in watching her sleeping form until he succumbed to sleep again.

* * *

It was weeks after when Dimitri found himself giving in to another of his indulgences.

"You know, that one morning when I saw you dancing. . ."

Hilda looked at him curiously as she continued spooling beads through a string.

"Could you do it again?"

She almost dropped said beads.

"Huh?!"

"Back then, I was not quite myself, but then I remembered that you had won the White Heron Cup and was likely doing a repeat performance. I wish I could've appreciated it more."

She seemed taken aback by his revelation. "W-well, that wasn't meant to be seen by anyone!"

"Well, if it is too much to ask—"

Hilda stood on her feet, placing her unfinished bracelet on the table while grinning.

"Well, fine. As the winner of the White Heron Cup, it would be an absolute pleasure to perform for you!" Her confident stance then turned rather meek as her voice softened. "I'm surprised you remembered that I won, though."

"Of course I remember." He scratched his cheek awkwardly. "I was the representative of Blue Lions, after all."

Hilda's eyes widened as her jaws dropped in disbelief.

"Oh my gosh. You were! I'm sorry, how could I have forgotten about that?!"

"It's fine. Honestly, most of my memories at the academy are a blur, though I do remember particular events like that." It likely became memorable if only due to him being forced to participate because there were no other fitting participants left in his house. He thought it could've been Annette, but Professor Byleth managed to recruit her into their house a week before the event too . . . like his other former classmates. "I do not think my performance was something worth remembering, anyway."

"Well, all the more reason for me to push through with my plan!"

Plan?

"I will perform, in one condition."

Condition?

She held out her hand towards him.

"You have to dance with me!"

He almost choked on his own saliva.

"I-impossible!"

That's what he thought, anyway. . . but he discovered that Hilda was capable of doing the seemingly impossible, since soon enough she managed to drag him off his chair and convince him to dance along with her. It was a strange experience, if he was to describe it, because apart from the only music being Hilda's enthusiastic humming, they also had a glaring height difference which made the dancing even . . . stranger. If it bothered Hilda, it didn't show since she continued dancing anyway. In fact, she didn't seem to mind at all, guiding him with glee so contagious, that he found himself not minding the strangeness in the end.

"It's nice to do this, isn't? Especially since four days ago, it's the anniversary of the White Heron Cup!"

"You still remember the exact date of the White Heron Cup?"

"Of course," she said with a nod, "I don't usually pay attention to the calendar at the academy, but the Ethereal Moon is an exception because I love all the events in the month. Did you also know that five days from now, on the 25th, it's the date of our Grand Ball!"

"Today is the 20th?"

"Mmhm. Why?"

It was . . . his birthday.

"It's nothing."

It really was. His last celebration was probably when he had been in the academy, which seemed very long ago.

Hilda wasn't convinced, however.

"Then if it's nothing, you shouldn't look as bothered as you are right now."

"It is, and I am not bothered. It's just an event that I haven't celebrated in a long while, so you need not trouble yourself—"

Shock crossed her face again, connecting the dots herself.

"It's your birthday," she concluded.

"It is," he admitted, finding no reason to hide it any longer. "However, it is just like any other day, so—"

Hilda dragged him again, this time, back to the table where she had been making accessories. With such impressive speed she completed the bracelet she had been making, adding blue accents before tying it on his wrist.

"Well, it's done in a bit of a rush but eh, I'll make a better one next time." She smiled radiantly. "Happy birthday, Dimitri!"

"Really, Hilda, there is no reason to—"

"Shh, shh. I know what you're going to say! Just because you haven't been receiving for the past years, doesn't mean it has to always be like that! We are going to make things a little bit different from now on. . .

Her smile turned smaller as she finally secured the bracelet.

"That is, if you're okay with that, of course. Your choice."

Making choices . . . Moving forward.

He looked at his hand, turning his wrist to observe the ornament around it. It surprised him that he could finally look at his hands without immediately thinking of the flecks of blood that used to stain them.

He thanked her, agreeing.

* * *

The temperature was dropping in the region as days were nearing the end of the Ethereal Moon. One of those chilly mornings, Dimitri found himself staring at the closed door of Hilda's room.

The previous day was a rather busy one, if compared to the usual. She brought him to the marketplace, at an outskirt where various children gathered. Dimitri knew of her storybook collaborations with Seteth, as he had the luxury of witnessing her personally making the illustrations for their books. Seteth usually provided her with a copy of their finished book, which on some occasions she apparently shared with the children at the marketplace. With both of them donning their cloaks, he commented how altruistic she was for doing so, even when she claimed that she simply did it so Seteth would stop bothering her too much. He knew she was being modest when he personally witnessed how sincere her smiles were as she narrated the story with such animated fashion. When they returned to the cabin, the skies were dark already, meaning the atmosphere was colder. Dimitri didn't mind, since winter was harsher in Faerghus. Hilda assured him that she was likewise fine, though he noticed how she shivered visibly despite her layers of clothing.

Hilda retired for the night earlier than usual, which he also understood. The experience must've been tiring, after all.

But it was precisely the reason why he felt worried. If she slept earlier, it meant she was supposed to wake up earlier, correct? Though to be fair, she didn't really have a set time for waking up.

His hand hovered over the door knob, yet it retracted. He remembered her words from before: "_Next time, I'd appreciate it if you just knocked!_"

So he did. Yet there was no answer.

Perhaps she was still asleep? Her covers were really comfy, after all.

He knocked again. Nothing.

An uncomfortable feeling grew in his gut.

It was really highly unusual for Hilda.

He breathed hard.

"Forgive me for potentially breaking another door," he muttered, as turned the knob with force, expecting it to be locked.

Except it wasn't really locked, so the door opened easily.

He mentally smacked himself on the head before he entered the room.

"Hilda . . ?" he said carefully so as not to abruptly wake her up. Her eyes didn't open, and Dimitri immediately observed whether or not she was still breathing.

Oh thank the goddess she still was. Though it appeared labored. He reached out his hand to touch her forehead to confirm his suspicions. Her skin was scorching against his hand.

"Dimitri. . .?" One of her eyes opened, likely due to his hand which he realized was cold. He quickly pulled away. "What are you doing here. . ?"

She attempted to sit up, but Dimitri gently pushed her down.

"Oh, isn't it time for breakfast. . .?"

"Hilda. You have a fever."

He managed to say it with a straight face, but in truth, he was panicking on the inside.

"It's likely, yes. . ." She laughed, or at least she tried to, because an odd breathy noise came out instead. "Ah, this is the life. . . Now I have an excuse to stay in bed all day long. . ."

If there had been something that alleviated his panic even for a little, it was seeing Hilda managing to retain her perky self despite her condition.

Yet he didn't agree with her carefree disposition.

"Hilda," he said in a firm voice. She laughed again.

"What are you going to do, then? Call my brother?"

"If I need to, yes."

"What? Are you crazy. . ?" she muttered in disbelief, "How exactly do you even plan on doing that? Not like we have magical contraptions that could send messages instantly or something. . . Ah, that would be a lovely invention though. . ."

"I'm going to get a cloth and some warm water," he announced, leaving the room. By the time he came back, Hilda had fallen asleep again.

Dimitri was by no means an expert in medicinal matters, although he was aware of basic remedies for fevers. The problem was that he already rummaged through her cupboard but he couldn't find anything of use. He tried to stir her awake, yet she no longer responded.

In his desperation, he ran outside—never mind that he was barefoot for the cold was nothing compared to the situation—dashing to her neighbors' house and quickly explaining the situation. They heeded his call, carrying their own medicinal kit and wasting no time to hurry back to her cabin.

The elderly woman quickly had things under control, much to his relief.

"It is nice to finally meet the special friend of Lady Hilda," the older man said.

Well, he supposed he was her friend. He wasn't sure what he meant by "special," however.

The man eyed him closely, and he felt a little discomfited.

"Is . . . something the matter?" Dimitri asked.

He simply smiled. "I was just thinking, you look rather familiar. I was originally from the territories of Gideon before I ended up here in Goneril, you see."

"The golden hair, blue eyes . . . I daresay he has a resemblance to the late King of Faerghus, King Lambert, wasn't it?"

He felt his heart sinking by the second.

But, if he needed to expose his identity for Hilda's sake, he was willing to.

Before he managed to speak out however, the older man held him firmly on the shoulder.

"You don't have to say anything, son. We all have our secrets."

"We are just happy there is someone who looks after Lady Hilda. See, the general complains how she can be rather hard-headed sometimes. I understand that she wants to live freely, but it's in situations like this when I want to side with the general."

"I heard she even refused to have a dog."

"Yes, that's right. Said something about them being cute but takes effort to clean up their mess."

Sounds like her, indeed.

Eventually they left, instructing him to call them again should he require help. He gave them a wholehearted "thank you."

When he returned to her room, he found her awake again. He felt relieved.

And then his stomach grumbled, which she of course noticed.

"Sorry, I can't help you today," she said in a voice that lacked her usual teasing tone.

"I will try my best not to poison you. Or myself."

She stifled a laugh, ending up with a snorting sound. "Good try, Dimitri. . . We need to work on your delivery next time though. You sound pretty sinister."

He excused himself as he retreated to the kitchen. He decided to make some vegetable soup, all while hoping he measured and sliced them all correctly.

He watched in nervous anticipation as she slurped the soup from the spoon he held, not at all noticing that Hilda was rather embarrassed with the gesture.

"H-how does it taste?"

She smiled.

"I appreciate what you did."

He waited.

"Though it is a bit salty, I think."

As his shoulders slumped in his failure, she laughed again, with a bit of vigor compared to her previous ones. He was happy to note that the medicine was likely working.

In no time, she fell asleep once more, and he realized he wanted nothing more than for her to be back to normal state. She did, two days later, much to his delight. Hilda continued being the ray of light that inspired him to move forward.

His current reality was all temporary, Dimitri knew. Like a dream, ironically. Hilda told him herself that it wasn't the place he belonged to. Yet as the days passed, a part of him realized he wanted to stay by her side, and wondered if it was alright to think if this sort of reality would never end.


	5. Chapter 5

The strong winds brushed against Hilda's skin as she gazed up at the glory of Garreg Mach. It was at the first week of the Guardian Moon when she visited the academy again. She was greeted by the friendly gatekeeper who eagerly told her about the progress in their reconstruction efforts. Soon, she was certain, the Officer's Academy would likely open again, and a bittersweet sense of nostalgia overcame her as she walked through the familiar halls of the monastery.

"Hilda!" Mercedes approached her with an embrace, which she returned with much glee. "It's so nice to see you again!"

"The feeling is mutual," she remarked. Out of the people originally from the Blue Lions, Mercedes had been one she had grown closest to. It wasn't really hard to like her with how pleasant she was.

"I'm happy to see that you are well too," Mercedes showed the sweet smile she was well-known for. "Honestly, I was getting worried since I had been expecting you for the past few moons. Your last visit was in the Horsebow Moon, correct?"

Hilda smiled guiltily. She did promise her to help out and visit at least once every two months since unlike their other classmates, she wasn't really what one would call busy.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," she said, looking at the ground. "But things happened, and. . ."

Mercedes took her hands, squeezing them as she shook her head.

"Well, no matter. We all have things that we need to do. What's important is that you're right here."

Hearing her last sentence made Hilda's mind wander off to Dimitri, who she had left in Goneril. As soon as she mentioned she planned on visiting the monastery, he remarked how he would keep her cabin safe, dismissing any discussions about accompanying her. She figured it was for the best anyway; a trip to the marketplace while donning a cloak with several strangers around was certainly different from a trip to their previous school where people who recognize him exist. Before leaving, she did instruct him to take care of himself and use whatever supplies she had freely; it took about a day to travel to the Monastery and another in going back, so it was the longest time she had to leave him by himself. He said he would, but it didn't really make Hilda any more assured. She ended up giving him instructions of tending to her horse, since she thought it would do him well if he was preoccupied with something he liked. It would likely be helpful too if he had the company of her neighbors, whom she also requested to assist him when needed. Her neighbors, to both her surprise and relief, were highly supportive with no other questions asked whatsoever.

"Hilda?" came Mercedes' worried voice. "You seem to have a lot in your mind. Anything I can help you with?"

"Actually, there is," she wanted to say, but it took much of her self-control not to divulge out of respect for Dimitri's wishes. Truthfully, she was at a point where she was appreciating his presence in her life . . . too much that it was starting to scare her.

She knew her plan for him hadn't changed: wait until he was well enough to decide for himself that he should be back to Fhirdiad, where he belonged. Hilda wasn't really aiming for a certain time frame, especially when she felt she was primarily responsible why he had been there in the first place. Pressuring him would not do him any good either, so she was willing to pay the price for her desire to have a peace of mind by saving him.

But now that Dimitri was becoming better, and how she genuinely cherished his presence in her life as the days had passed, wasn't it turning her more selfish the more she kept him with her?

Regardless of her own feelings, with the way things were, she was no longer certain whether or not hiding Dimitri away from his home the best decision for him. If there was something she was sure of, at the very least, was that she wanted to keep his best interests at heart. Hilda ended up feigning a smile, hoping it would completely mask her thoughts.

"Umm, not really! I was just thinking about tea to prepare with you. Albinean Berry or Southern Fruit Blend? Mmm, just thinking about it makes my mouth water. . ."

Mercedes looked at her carefully before finally nodding, leading her to one of the gazebos.

"As long as it's with you, either one would work, right?"

They ended up preparing the tea together, chatting about the most menial things like the latest fashion trends and the newest snacks at the marketplace. With their many common interests, it had always been a delight talking with Mercedes. They effectively kept her worries aside, and gradually, whatever tensions she had were released.

"The monastery seems to be doing great," she commented when they pretty much ran out of topics to talk about. She glanced at the newly painted walls that surrounded them. "Aside from my donations, what other assistance could I provide before leaving?"

"Well, there are some paperwork that still require some sorting." Mercedes giggled when Hilda groaned with pretend distaste. "You are correct though, if things go on without trouble, we could really open the academy in the following year. That's why Seteth is pretty busy these days too. He actually just left for a trip to hopefully gather more educators from the faith."

"Really?" She was supposed to be claiming a copy of their newest book too. She sighed. "I was hoping to see him. A bummer, then."

"How unfortunate. He just left yesterday."

"Eh, it's fine. I'm sure he'll just deliver the book to me or something."

"You know, Seteth manages to strengthen the bonds of the believers too, so we also have new knights that keep us guarded."

Her eyebrows perked up. "New knights, huh?"

"Yes, new knights. Good-looking ones too, if I may add." Mercedes winked and giggled again. "Remember how we used to gush over dreamy knights back then?"

She chuckled, fondly recalling their conversations as students.

"Such valiant knights, with strong stances as they ride their majestic horses. . . "

With Mercedes' words, memories of her little horse riding lessons flashed in her head. How she felt secure around him, his strong hands guiding her so they wouldn't fall off. . .

"Promising to serve and protect you with all their might. . ."

His reassuring voice, the rare smiles that she wished he'd show more. . .

The more Mercedes spoke, the more her heart fluttered with memories.

"Those broad shoulders that you could definitely lean on—"

His shoulders were definitely broad, the image of his little bathtime mishap clear in her head.

And she caught herself thinking about it too much.

Oh no. Oh no no no—

"Hilda?"

An amused glint appeared in Mercedes' eyes, just as Hilda recognized the warmth surrounding her face.

"Oh my, I did not expect this reaction from you. How very unusual. By any chance, has someone finally caught your eye?"

She covered her face with her palms. "Is it that bad?"

"Well, your cheeks are pretty much the same color as your hair now, if not even redder. Would you tell me more of this mystery person?"

It made her pause. The more reasonable decision, she knew, was to dismiss the topic altogether, especially since it possibly involved revealing Dimitri's identity. Plus, she was sure Mercedes wasn't the type to pry if she didn't want to share anyway.

But another side of her, tired and longing for a sense of relief, just wanted to vent those feelings out, because days later she knew she had to deal with him again. She recognized that she had been growing fond of Dimitri, but it didn't mean that she should put her feelings out in the open; it would do neither of them any good. . .

But she figured it wouldn't hurt to give a little hints, perhaps? After all, she had even described him occasionally in her letters to Marriane under the guise of a 'stranger that she met at the marketplace."

"Well, there is someone—"

"Mercedes, Hilda."

Whatever it was that she was supposed to say no longer reached the other's ears, because they both turned to see a newcomer. Ingrid waved a hand as she walked towards them. Hilda wasn't certain whether to be thankful or not for the interruption, yet she found herself waving back anyway. It's been a while since she had last seen Ingrid; her hair had grown, reaching her shoulders. She thought it was nice; she had always thought Ingrid looked lovelier with longer hair. Mercedes warmly invited her for a cup, which the other accepted with a smile, though there was a grim expression in her eyes that made something in Hilda's gut twist.

"Thank you for the invitation," Ingrid said as she sipped from her cup, "Though I won't be here for long."

Much like Hilda, Mercedes caught on the seriousness of Ingrid's tone.

"It's about His Highness."

At the mere mention of his title, the feeling of dread within her intensified, making Hilda's gaze stay on her tea cup.

"Dimitri?"

"Yes. I am sure you both have heard . . . of the different rumors about his status."

Ingrid proceeded to narrate about the whole truth behind them, which unbeknownst to her companions Hilda already knew. Still she listened intently as it was another side of the whole story. Apparently, only a chosen few trusted nobles of the Kingdom were informed about Dimitri's status when he had woken up, but it was only recently when they learned that he had actually gone missing two weeks after.

"Sylvain and I stumbled upon the truth when we visited Felix at the Fraldarius territory. We were planning to drag him along to visit His Highness on his birthday. Perhaps, maybe to cheer him up and talk to him about his feelings about taking the throne again. . . Well, imagine our shock when apparently His Highness wasn't even in the capital anymore."

She also mentioned that Felix was against keeping it a secret so he told them the truth, even when Rodrigue pleaded with him not to let the information spread so carelessly.

"Faerghus is generally stable for now since the times are peaceful, though I fear it would crumble the moment it would get attacked by hostile forces. I've been hearing reports that remnants of the Imperial Army still exist and are hiding somewhere. Surely, once they learn that there is instability in the Kingdom, they might take advantage of it." Ingrid paused, eyes downcast. "I fear to imagine the outcome."

Hilda herself could no longer look at them in the eyes.

"Anyway, right now, Sylvain, Felix, and I are exerting efforts in looking for him. We decided to relay this information to trusted acquaintances only." Ingrid shifted her gaze to Hilda. "That includes you too, Hilda. I trust you too, not just as someone who had saved His Highness, but also as a former classmate. . . To be honest, you were one of the people outside Faerghus that we wanted to share this information with. We owe you much, but I hope you aren't troubled with this request."

"Not at all," she managed to say with a smile. That was partly a lie; of course she felt troubled, but perhaps her encounter with Ingrid at the monastery was actually a blessing in disguise for Dimitri. If Hilda had not been there at that moment, a possibility existed that Ingrid herself would've traveled all the way to Goneril just to relay the information to her. . . And that wouldn't bode very well for Dimitri, at least in his current state.

"Thank you for the trust, Ingrid. We'll surely let you know when we have information that would help," Mercedes said.

Soon enough, Ingrid left them. Whatever mirth she had with previously conversing with Mercedes no longer returned even as they began sorting paperwork for the monastery. Hilda couldn't even muster her usual complaints and silently did her work.

"You have really been quiet since our conversation with Ingrid. I cannot blame you, however. The news about Dimitri is quite a shocker."

Hilda bit her lip.

"But really, if anything, I'm just happy he's alive. But I sure hope wherever he is, he's okay—"

"Mercedes."

Hilda couldn't take it anymore. Even for someone like her who was used to lying to get away with what she wanted, it just. . . seemed wrong not say anything.

"I know where Dimitri is."

Mercedes' mouth opened in shock as her hands let go of the papers she was stacking.

"He's actually in my house—well, not in our family estate if you're wondering but I have mentioned to you that I live alone, right—and he's really doing well and—"

And a tear escaped from Mercedes' eye, effectively stopping her in her ramblings. Her guilt worsened seeing that she made her friend cry.

"I'm so, so sorry, Mercedes—" she began, completely anticipating a disappointed response, yet all that she saw was a relieved smile.

"Oh thank the goddess he's alright," she muttered as she wiped the tear from her cheek.

"Y-you aren't angry that I didn't tell Ingrid?" She looked down on her lap, crumpling her skirt as she clutched it in her fingers. "I think she's still hasn't left and somewhere in the monastery—"

"Well, surely there must be a good reason why you didn't tell her, so who am I to force you to do it right now?"

Hilda looked at her closely before nodding in resignation. After making sure they were completely alone in the library, she proceeded to narrate their first encounter, relaying Dimitri's reasons plus her choices in their arrangements. Mercedes patiently listened with the grace of a saint. She really did think she'd qualify soon enough.

"And . . . That's it, basically. I don't know what I should be doing, especially now. He seems content with his life right now, even if he's in hiding, and I don't think it would do him any good if I start guilt-tripping him into going back."

Mercedes placed her hand under her chin in contemplation.

"Hmm, I'm not in any position to say what you should do," she replied, "I mean, I don't think anyone is, really, for both you and Dimitri. However, I want to ask you, Hilda. How do you feel about these arrangements?"

"To be really honest. . . I don't really mind." It wasn't even about keeping her 'manservant' anymore—far from it, she could say with confidence. He had been a really kind man, caring, a calming presence that inspired her to think further about what she was capable of. "Is it selfish to say that?"

"Well, as long as both of you feel you are neither an inconvenience, then I suppose it is fine. There is nothing inherently wrong with being content and happy with what you have."

Hilda pondered on her words.

"On the other hand, if we look at the bigger picture, the masses in Faerghus seem worried about their king, his childhood friends included. The royal family had always been a great symbol for hope and prosperity in their lands, so I am sure if he returns, it would certainly uplift morale and make Faerghus stronger than before." Mercedes smiled sadly. "But I also get your point that it wouldn't be conducive for anybody if we just force him back into his position. What sort of symbol could he become if he himself feels hopeless, right?"

Hilda stared blankly at the documents in front of her. "That's true. . ."

"Right now, I think the decision would be entirely up to Dimitri."

Hilda found herself slowly nodding. She had actually thought about that. In the end, she was just waiting for Dimitri to decide for himself.

Eventually, they managed to finish sorting all the needed paperwork, explored the monastery as they reminisced the same, until it was time for Hilda to leave. Mercedes led her to the front gates where her carriage was waiting for her.

"By the way, it has just dawned on me. Is it possible . . . That the mystery person and him are one and the same?"

She didn't answer, but her silence and embarrassed smile were perhaps enough to satisfy Mercedes' curiosity.

* * *

Meanwhile, a day before Hilda arrived at Garreg Mach, Dimitri had been staying alone at her cabin.

She left early morning that day, and it had been several hours since she did.

Truthfully, the thought of her leaving sent him with flurries of worry. Anxiety. What if something had happened to her? Was he wrong for letting her go without him?

He shook his head, knowing how it would complicate things if he did. What deflated his worries was his confidence in Hilda's capability of defending herself, along with the knowledge that she was accompanied by the most elite guards of House Goneril.

If anything, shouldn't he be worried for himself. . .?

Dimitri's brows furrowed, realizing how odd that thought was for him. Since when had he genuinely thought of his own well-being?

He set those thoughts aside, remembering Hilda's instructions. After gaining permission from her neighbors, he entered the stables, approaching and greeting her horse. Taking the brush from the storage box, he proceeded to groom its fur, and in no time, the horse nuzzled his hand with affection.

The act reminded him of how he groomed his horse back in the stables at Garreg Mach. . . Even back in the stables at the palace at Fhirdiad, when he had been a child.

He never realized that recalling fond memories of his hometown was even possible.

It was a calming experience, nonetheless, that he didn't even know how much time had passed.

"She's been really spoiled lately, that girl."

He turned to see the elderly man entering the stables, the wrinkles around his eyes becoming prominent as he chuckled. When he was about to ask who he was pertaining to, he realized himself that he was referring to the horse beside him.

"Not saying it's a bad thing. They really do need affection too; our grooming and feeding could only do so much. I'm happy you manage to convince Lady Hilda to go riding even once in a while."

Thinking about it, wasn't her neighbors primarily in charge for tending to her horse, so was there really a need for him to do so. . .?

"Once you are done, come over to our house to have lunch. My wife and I would be delighted to have you over."

He ended up accepting their invitation. Their house was simple, yet it was warm at the same time, that even fonder memories of eating together with his own family surged in his mind. With their welcoming and non-prying nature, he ended up staying longer than he intended.

However, when they offered to let him stay for the night in their house, he respectfully declined. It had been nice, really, yet he no longer wished to trouble them any further. Especially when he remembered he himself was still on the run. Especially when they accepted him even without confirmation of who he truly was. Involving such good-natured people further in his predicament would seem really selfish, especially when thinking of the worst things that could happen.

Then it brought his thoughts back to Hilda, who had kept him despite knowing all the risks. Surely, if discovered by the wrong people, it would be a national scandal if it had been known that a noble of the Alliance had been keeping him, the heir to the throne of the Kingdom.

Had he been taking advantage of her kindness after all? Was it selfish if he kept on staying with her?

He wasn't able to ponder on it for long, since her neighbors were rather insistent. What managed to convince them to let him go was telling them he promised Hilda to keep her house safe, and that he couldn't do that if he wasn't there.

And so he did, entering the cabin just as the skies darkened. The temperature cooled down significantly without the sun's warmth. He turned to the fireplace, intending to light it as they usually did at that hour, but immediately changed his mind. Wouldn't it be suspicious if smoke was coming out of the chimney when the owner of the house supposedly wasn't there?

Nevermind if he was overthinking, but keeping Hilda's best interests at heart, he decided to don his thickest cloaks, settling on the back porch just as he did in his first night. It should be the best decision, right? For him to guard the house for any unwanted visitors. For him to easily escape should there be presence of Kingdom knights. Nevermind the cold too, for he was used to it, nor the discomfiting ground he had been sitting on. He knew he had been in even worse conditions and managed to survive it all. He didn't even think he'd be able to fall asleep inside. At least if he was outside, he'd be alert and would not likely drown with the muffled voices around him.

As the night passed, he kept himself preoccupied with the pleasant memories that he never realized were stored in his mind, and soon enough, he found himself dreaming of all the could-have's and should-have's. In between all the thinking, he must have fallen asleep in varying intervals. . .

Until it was morning again. He estimated the time, and he safely assumed that Hilda had already arrived at the monastery. He commenced his day like the previous one, only for that day he also offered to help out the neighbors tend to their field, assisting in carrying their harvests. He was again offered for a meal with them, which he failed to refuse with their kind insistence. They failed, however, in convincing him to sleep at their house again, as he retreated back to his spot at the back porch.

The night also went on similarly, the cold winds embracing him, except he also had the company of his own thoughts of going home one day. He thought it was peculiar how the thought didn't make him any colder.

"_It's not really too late for you, either,_" he remembered Hilda's words, "_After all, you're still alive_."

Was it really not too late, he asked himself, the question ringing in his mind until it was morning again.

He entered the cabin, doing at least the bare minimum of caring for himself. Bathing, changing clothes, eating breakfast. . . As soon as he was done, he went back to the back porch, wondering if there was something else he could do to help out the neighbors that day.

Until he heard the sound of knocking.

Dimitri froze. He was certain it was from the front door. Hilda wasn't supposed to be back until evening. Besides, she wouldn't be knocking in the first place; she had the keys to her own house after all, so whoever it was wasn't her.

There was another series of knocks that made Dimitri's pulse race even more.

Fear. It was a foreign feeling, something he had not felt in a long while. He hated how he did not know how to deal with it, making him unable to move from his spot.

To his relief, however, the knocking stopped after a few long seconds. He didn't know why—perhaps it was his instincts acting up—yet his first thought was that he needed to get out of there.

But which way? Should he actually enter the house instead?

He was no longer given any time, anyway, because soon enough, he found a man emerging from the corner, looking at him with unconcealed surprise. Dimitri eyed the familiar dark green locks on his head, along with the navy blue robes he adorned.

Seteth.

Both of them stared awkwardly for quite some time. His instincts told him to run away; Seteth was a prominent member of the Church of Seiros, who was closely tied to the Kingdom.

On the other hand, Seteth was also his teacher, someone whose presence provided direction and guidance not only in matters of lance-wielding and authority, but of all other things when they had been at the academy.

His mind was in circles, uncertain of what to do.

"Dimitri?"

Seteth's voice broke the uncomfortable silence. Dimitri briefly studied his face—there was confusion? Concern? He wasn't sure himself, yet he was certain there was an absence of hostility.

And perhaps that had been enough to appease his doubts.

Dimitri stood as he breathed heavily.

"Would you like to come inside?"

The other simply nodded in agreement, silently following after him. He noticed how Seteth observed the interior of the house before settling on a chair at the common room.

"This is . . . Hilda's house, correct?"

"Yes."

"And you're alive."

"Yes."

Silence.

Seteth coughed.

"I mean, pardon me for stating the obvious, but these are a lot to digest," he confessed, "Even for someone like me who had his share of bizarre events all his life."

Dimitri paused, unsure of what to answer.

"You are looking for Hilda?" he asked instead.

"Yes." Seteth retrieved a package from the bag he carried. "I've had official businesses with the Eastern Church, and given that Goneril was along the way home, I intended to personally deliver to her a copy of our book. It seems my timing isn't right, however."

"She just traveled for Garreg Mach the other day, but she should be back here later."

"Unfortunate, as I need to return to the monastery this day. We'll likely pass each other unknowingly on the roads later on." An amused snort escaped from his nose. "Well, it is perhaps best if I hand this over to you to be given to her later."

Dimitri reached out for the package and placed it beside him. What followed was another round of silence.

"Could I offer you some tea, perhaps?" he attempted to ask, but the other shook his head.

"Thank you for the offer, but I do not intend to overstay my welcome as I have people waiting for me at the marketplace. I apologize if I gave off that impression. I am still rather . . . surprised." The corners of his mouth rose up. "Surprised in a very good way, I assure you."

He knew he should've been comforted with his words, yet he still couldn't quite allow the feeling of relief to completely overcome him.

"Why is that?"

"If I may be terribly honest, I thought you were a lost cause when I saw your state in the war. But seeing you now, I am nothing short of delighted being proven wrong."

Dimitri found himself looking down, staring blankly at the table between them.

"So, what now?"

"Hmm, what do you mean?" he responded with genuine curiosity, something Dimitri didn't expect.

"Are you. . ." He stopped, hesitating, fearing Seteth's response should he open the discussion himself.

However, Seteth, being the wise man that he was, caught on quickly.

". . . Am I going to convince you to go back to the Kingdom?"

He didn't respond, urging Seteth to continue.

"It is true, the Church is closely knit to the Kingdom. Certainly, increased morale of the Kingdom would greatly benefit the church."

The words weighted heavily on Dimitri.

"However, matters within the Kingdom itself is beyond our jurisdiction as part of the Church. I am not in the position to dictate on what you should be doing."

His words reminded her of Hilda's. He realized that all his life, he followed through the wishes of others, and never really of himself.

"Let me ask you something, Dimitri. Do you wish to go back?"

"Yes, but. . ." He wasn't sure. Somewhere, deep in his heart, was the desire to go back home, yet uncertainties existed that prevented him from doing so. Seteth simply nodded.

"It's fine. You need not answer if you don't have them yet. Could you entertain another question, then? Do you wish to leave this place?"

He didn't want to, he was sure, yet he didn't say it out loud. Based from Seteth's amused reaction however, Dimitri wasn't probably the best in concealing his own feelings.

"Well, I am certainly not one for gossip, but I do admit, I am curious about your arrangements with Hilda. Of course, you need not to clarify, but if my assumptions are correct, you are currently the way you are because of staying here, correct?"

"Yes."

"I do not find fault in that, wanting to stay where you find peace."

Dimitri didn't know what truths or lies Seteth knew about him prior to their meeting. He couldn't really tell since his teacher's expression didn't change, remaining pensive throughout.

"Rodrigue and his men are looking for me," he ended up admitting.

"I see. So _that_ is where you're coming from. Will you allow me to tell you a story, then?"

There was no real harm in hearing it, Dimitri thought. He nodded.

Seteth thanked him, and proceeded to describe someone he loved dearly. Someone he had almost lost one time. He narrated his bouts of dread just thinking of the possible dire situations she could've been at, how he feared never seeing her alive again.

Even without directly her name, Dimitri knew he was pertaining to Flayn.

"You could only imagine my relief, how eternally thankful I was when she was safely back in my arms." There was a solemn look in his eyes as he smiled. "Sometimes you'd wish she could've been with you forever, but that is wishful thinking."

Dimitri's eyebrows furrowed, looking at the other questioningly. Was he implying that—

"This person that I love, I lost her again. Right now, she is no longer with me."

Dimitri had no words. Instead, he could only admire the unpresuming strength of the person in front of him.

"There is no need for sympathies," Seteth said, likely noticing his reaction, "Unlike the first event where she had been forced away from me, where plenty of unknowns succeeded in pulling me to helplessness, her current situation . . . has different circumstances. It requires me to wait, yet I could wait with confidence that one day, she would return and be with me again." He chuckled. "I could only hope that I am still alive until that day arrives."

He wasn't certain what he meant, yet he didn't find himself asking.

"I hope my little story could help you ponder on some of the questions in your mind, speaking as someone like a parental figure who had lost his child. You don't really have force yourself back if you don't want it, but I'm sure those who really care for you would appreciate if you speak what's in your heart instead of running away."

Seteth left soon enough. With his departure, Dimitri asked another question to himself:

Was running away, like what he was doing, accomplishing anything?

* * *

Hilda arrived at Goneril territories that evening. She thought the ride had been longer despite the travel time being the same; her own thoughts must've preoccupied her much.

She first saw Dimitri in front of the fireplace, replenishing the stock of firewood. She did not miss the way his face brightened immediately as he saw her.

Yet she didn't return the smile.

"Is it true, what the neighbors said?" She put up a stern front, trying to mask how upset she really was. "That you slept at the back porch when I wasn't around?"

He looked down with guilt. "Well, yes, but—"

"It's freezing outside! D-didn't I tell you to take care of yourself?!"

"No, no. . . I simply thought it was the most reasonable arrangement. It's not at all my intention to disregard my own health—"

She effectively silenced him by tackling him into an embrace, not letting him see how her tears stubbornly flowed down her cheeks. Dimitri on the other hand was likely stunned at the action, his arms awkwardly hovering behind her.

"Stupid. . ." She didn't care if she was going to be sentenced to death by bluntly saying offensive words about a member of the royalty because that's what he was—_an idiot_. "Don't do it again, you hear?"

"Please forgive me. I will try my best not to be careless again." He returned the embrace, and she hated how the action immediately alleviated the anger she was supposed to be feeling towards him. "However, there was nothing to be worried about anyway. I am fine, right? I even made sure to have donned my thickest cloaks—"

She shushed him, which ended their exchange on the matter.

* * *

Unbeknownst to both, they individually wished that the other would have a peaceful, restful night, after imagining how draining the days must have been for them. On Hilda's end, she imagined him experiencing sleepless nights in undoubtedly uncomfortable conditions. On Dimitri's end, he imagined how exhausting the long travel must've been for her.

However, unbeknownst to both of them too, it wasn't even the physical fatigue that was taking a toll on them; rather, it was the various thoughts and questions clouding their minds that weighed even heavier.

It started when Hilda noticed the package from Seteth.

"Seteth was here?" she remarked with surprise.

When he nodded, Hilda's face became obviously worried.

"It's fine," he assured her, "I think he is someone trustworthy."

Despite hearing his words, her gaze fell, feeling guilt. She imagined how nerve-racking it must've been for him. Why did she have to leave at the worst time possible?

"I'm sorry."

"There's no need to be."

As he said those words, she thought he was too kind, too understanding for someone like her.

It made Hilda even guiltier, that she felt that he deserved to know what had happened at Garreg Mach too despite her uncertainties.

She told him of the things that Ingrid said, along with her inadvertently telling Mercedes about the truth of his status and whereabouts. She expected him to be angry for blabbering about things she should've kept quiet about.

But instead of anger, he responded with a tone of regret.

"My apologies for dragging you into this mess. It must've been hard for you."

She smiled. "There is no need to be sorry. . ."

As she said those words, he thought she was too kind, too patient, for someone like him.

Unbeknownst to both of them, they wished the whole world for the other, yet at the same time felt how undeserving themselves were for the other.

Hilda took the first step.

"How long do you intend to stay here, Dimitri?"

"I'm not certain." _For as long as you want me to. _"But if you wish for me to go—"

"I don't." _I really, reaaaally don't_. "I'm not saying you have to go, because I was serious in my wish for you to live. If you're simply going back to assume the responsibilities you don't even want, would you call that living?"

When Hilda said it, she wasn't certain what she wanted Dimitri to answer. At the same time, Dimitri wasn't certain what his definition of 'living' was.

"Please allow me time to ponder about it."

Dimitri wasn't sure if it was the right answer to tell, because in the end, he felt like his selfishness prevailed again, delaying the inevitable. Unbeknownst to him, Hilda was thinking the same, thinking herself selfish for finding nothing wrong with his answer.


	6. Chapter 6

Somehow, Byleth senses that a certain part of Goneril is warm in the winter.

Even as a child, Hilda was not a big fan of winter.

Sure, the snow was pretty, an absolutely calming sight as they covered trees and grass like a blank canvas; she especially loved watching the snow fall from the windows of her room when she had been living at the estate.

But that was it, she loved admiring it from the inside. It was a different story when she had to be _outside_.

To be fair, she wasn't a big fan of summer either, so perhaps to be more general, she _hated_ both extreme heat or cold. She hated the warm, humid air that made her skin unbearably sticky with sweat, and she hated the chilly winds which numbed her limbs with prickly sensations. For those reasons, she often stayed indoors most of her life before entering the academy. Thinking about it, it was likely a factor why the term "lazy" had been associated with her ever since. She could recall all the nagging she received from her parents for always waking up late in the winter, along with her brother's nagging when he tried to convince her to train with him under the heat of the scorching sun.

But she couldn't help it if her skin was more sensitive, right? If her body was a lot "weaker" compared to her brother's obviously more resilient one. . .

. . . But of course, she wasn't certain if that was just her giving excuses for herself. In the end, maybe she really was lazy and was just using the weather as an excuse so she need not overexert herself.

What was the point of overexerting herself when she couldn't meet the standard anyway? Why bother, right?

That had been her line of thought in her younger years, anyway, her justifications for staying in her room in the coldest days of the winter.

It was the third week of the Guardian Moon. The temperature dropped even more as it was nearing the Pegasus Moon, the coldest month of the year.

The child version of herself would likely be shocked to know that there would come a day wherein Hilda would finally leave her room by her own volition . . . to ride a horse—wielding a weapon, no less, among all other things—in a cold winter day. And it wasn't even out of necessity, meaning there was no war, no imminent threat.

It was because Dimitri suggested it. And _no_, it wasn't about her giving in to whatever he was suggesting and certainly _not_ because of her _feelings _or whatever_, _but it had been her who brought out the topic when she asked him what he did to prevent himself from freezing in the winter. After all, he came from Faerghus, so he should be an expert with matters of handling the cold.

He answered that he trained. A lot.

She wanted to smack herself because she should've expected it. But of course he did—_training a lot_. She was willing to bet that he likely had spent more time in the academy training grounds than his own dormitory room. That would also explain his monstrous strength too.

Just as she was about to retort that _no_, she wasn't really willing to let herself train even if it's super cold, because why in blazes would she involve herself in an activity that she actively tried to avoid in the academy when Dimitri clutched his hands in front of him in an almost giddy way that it made her prior thoughts crumble pathetically to dust.

"I say, it certainly is a nice activity to be involved with. Never hurts to give our muscles a little burn."

She highly doubted that the burn he gave his muscles were only "a little."

"It should also be a perfect opportunity to test your riding skills as well. You have shared that the axe is your weapon of choice, right? I know of many great knights proficient in both fields."

He continued to speak in detail how he thought she possessed even greater potential than said knights to the point where she was rendered speechless with such compliments. Eventually he was even suggesting going to the neighbor's house to lend some materials for their little impromptu training regimen.

She wanted to argue that she hadn't even agreed to it in the first place, but she figured it was too late anyway, since the next thing she knew, she was following after him outside—_the cold outside?!_

"You will be training?" the elderly woman said as her husband gathered the weapons they had back in their soldier days. "My, this is a surprise, Lady Hilda!"

It was definitely a surprise.

She resigned to it, anyway, since it was something she brought upon herself. Besides, it was a rare sight seeing him so eager, so full of life that she found him so . . . _cute_? That she couldn't resist it?

Grr, fine, maybe it _was_ her stupid feelings' fault.

And Dimitri as well. Cute, dangerous Dimitri's fault.

The little training eventually commenced, which started pretty tame at first. She warmed up riding her horse as Dimitri watched over, providing instructions as he walked alongside them. Gradually, the horse's pace increased until Dimitri was no longer beside her.

The chilly winds were no joke; she especially felt them crawling against her skin the more the horse galloped across the fields. Thoughts of regret surged in her head: why was she even there and not in her comfortable bed?!

"You're really doing well, Hilda!" she heard him say from afar. Truthfully she found his enthusiastic pep talk so unexpected, that she grew conscious of her rapid heartbeat. She wasn't sure if it was due (a) _that,_ (b) her stress of the current situation, (c) his little training _actually_ working its magic, or (d) all of the above.

Before she even realized it, her body was feeling warm, a stark contrast against the rushing cool winds surrounding her. The heat even escalated when he handed her a training axe, which she used to slash some dummies he positioned at the other end of the field.

In no time, the distaste she initially had for the activity was momentarily forgotten, that she even found herself handing a training lance to Dimitri so they could have a little spar. . ?

Wait a second, she—Hilda—initiating a _sparring match_? Who knew such unthinkable thing was possible?! She blamed it on the intense pump of blood in her veins, along with the thought that it shouldn't just be _her_ sweating bullets underneath the many layers of clothing. The weird, icky sensation of sweat was very oddly satisfying against the cool air, that she didn't think it was such a bad feeling. . . In fact, she thought it must be shared!

After several exchanges of blows later, they ended up falling on the snowy ground, dropping their weapons as they sat up.

"Sheesh, Dimitri! You're so crazy strong, y'know, you monster." It came out without her thinking much about it, but it seemed to have caught him off-guard that she began to regret saying it, recalling their late night conversation before. . .

But before she could apologize for such a careless comment, he laughed.

"Well, for you to keep up with a monster like me, doesn't that make you a monster yourself?"

She didn't anticipate his reaction; in fact, she thought it should've opened up past wounds, for both him and her. . .

. . .but perhaps it did, as she recognized a brief dull pang in her core. Or was that just the feeling of her sore muscles? She wasn't certain but she decided to brush it off aside anyway, turning her attention to what's at present. Dimitri was looking at her, waiting for her response.

"Forgive me, was that too unbecoming of me—"

She shook her head as she held his arm, hopefully stopping him from whatever doubt that he had.

She chuckled.

"No, no. I don't mind it at all!"

And she meant it, truly. Another surge of warmth enveloped her body at the thought that perhaps, the wounds they garnered from the past were healing, no matter how gradual.

Snow began falling on their heads, and it was only then when Hilda realized how sloppy her trousers felt against the snow. Dimitri stood first, holding out his hand towards her.

"Best not to prolong our stay here. I would really hate for us to be both sick at these conditions."

She stared at his hand before taking it, smiling in the process. She felt happy to confirm that he was thinking more for himself. . .though it dawned to her he was only likely thinking how he'd be an inconvenience for her should he become sick, meaning he was actually thinking of _her _again. Well, baby steps, but she was hopeful he'd get there one day.

"Right. I'm in serious need of a warm bath right now though," she said as they began walking back to her house, "I'm sure you do, too. Care to join me?"

Dimitri stopped in his tracks.

Hilda herself was surprised with her words, the warmth rushing quickly back to her cheeks. Despite being used to the flirting game, she realized she hadn't actually did so with someone she genuinely liked, and she didn't know how. . . _flustering_ it actually was to just casually say it like that. . .

She tried to focus on Dimitri's reactions instead in an attempt to control the situation. His face had turned red, which she expected. He didn't utter a word—something expected too.

"Well?" She was rather proud to have managed a straight face even when she was burning in embarrassment on the inside, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"I-I was waiting for you to say that you are kidding," he remarked, "Surely it is inappropriate."

Also an expected response. . .

"Inappropriate because . . . I am afraid the bath is too small for the both of us."

Her jaw dropped momentarily—because _that_ was unexpected. Dimitri covered his mouth with his hand as he looked away. She tried not to think much about what he was insinuating nor the imagery of such circumstances and instead concluded that it was his attempt at humor to save both themselves from the awkward situation.

So she laughed, probably harder than she intended to. Not like she expected him to take her seriously, right?

"Nice comeback, Dimitri! You definitely are improving!"

"Is that so," he replied, chuckling, though he still didn't quite meet her gaze, "I am glad, then, though I only really learn from the opportunities that my mentor gives me."

He smiled. He had been smiling more as the days passed, and she noticed how less strained they were, how much more relaxed they were becoming. She didn't notice that the mere observation kept her thoughts away from the chilly winds of winter.

* * *

Dimitri was not very fond of delicate work. . . He was simply not "cut out for that sort of thing."

That's what he told himself as he stared at the fifth bottle that crumbled with just his fingers. Along with the circular plastic beads cracked into half. And the pair of kitchen scissors that Hilda decided to give to him after he broke two of her small ones.

Really, he admired her patience with him.

Hilda picked up the pendant that he made, or at least, that pathetic excuse of a pendant that he attempted to do: inside the hardened resin that had awkward, smooshed edges marked with his fingerprints were torn petals of different colors. He wanted to say that he deliberately tore them apart for aesthetic purposes but that was obviously a lie.

"Well, to be completely objective, this certainly has some charm in it," she said, twirling it around her fingertips as she inspected it.

"You are too kind. Or perhaps you meant it possesses the charm of something that looks like it was made by a ten year old child." Actually, a ten year old probably would've done a better job than him.

She tried to stifle a laugh. "Give yourself credit, at least. I mean, that's your first successful pendant, right?"

Comparing her works that had smooth edges and completely intact petals, he would say that his work was far from successful. He heard her sigh, likely noticing that he had been staring at her creations.

"You're being too harsh on yourself, Dimitri."

He looked at her questioningly. "Shouldn't that how things should be? For myself to improve?"

"Well, _fine_, I get your point, but have you ever heard of the term 'moderation?'"

He turned to her with curiosity.

"It's good that you give your all most of the time, but sometimes you also need to remember to lessen the effort exerted. That's especially needed for delicate work; you need to give just enough that you don't end up dropping the beads from your fingers but not too much that you end up breaking them."

"I really try to keep that in mind, but it seems I do not possess the capacity to do so." In particular, it made him recall a childhood memory—how Felix was so visibly upset when Dimitri broke a prized weapon by accident. "This seems to be something that exists since I was born."

"Hmm, I don't believe you." Hilda placed a hand under her chin. "If you really didn't have the capacity to do some regulation, then shouldn't you have injured me in our sparring the previous day?"

Well, wasn't that just because she was equally strong and able to hold him off?

. . .And of course, how he really didn't want to hurt her at the same time.

She giggled, likely catching how deep in thought he was.

"See? Do you get what I mean?"

He nodded slowly. Perhaps he did?

"Great! While it's certainly admirable to always give your best efforts, just remember to think of yourself too. Thinking about it, that doesn't just apply to crafts too, y'know?"

He thanked her, her words shedding a new light in his mind.

* * *

The following day, Dimitri accompanied her to the marketplace, at the location where she met up with the merchant of her accessories. She was delighted to receive news that regardless of the season, the sales of her creations were doing really well. It delighted her so much, that when they reached home, she found herself reading the book that Holst had given her.

"This is. . . rather unusual of you," Dimitri pointed out, who was sitting across from her at the dining table. He was carefully trying to loop together pieces of silver wire to create his own chain.

"I could say the same thing to you, you know."

"Well, I am simply trying to take your advice to heart, putting it into practice. Thank you for the opportunity." He smiled. "So does this mean you are finally taking your first step to attain your dream?"

"Maybe I am?" She'd like to think she was, especially after reading Holst's latest letter mentioning potential areas to set the school up. Instead of the usual uncertainty, she recognized a flicker of excitement in her heart. . . though perhaps it was also likely due to her current happiness which made her rather optimistic. "Although honestly, this 'first step' is kind of challenging. There are some parts that I find hard to grasp, especially in this chapter. "

"Well, will you allow me to offer help?" When she nodded, he transferred to the seat just beside her. He took the book as she handed it to him.

Dimitri started browsing through it, relaying his thoughts as he did. He was by no means an expert in school management, but with his background on matters of authority and administration, he managed to provide useful insights that made her understand the topic a little better. After some related discussions, he mentioned that apart from choosing the location, another factor to consider were the educators. Hilda found herself nodding, because that made sense. If the school would become big enough, surely she couldn't handle it by herself. Perhaps she should start trying to keep in touch with others. . . like Ignatz, maybe?

"I mean, just like a Kingdom would only stand with great knights supporting and backing it up, a school would only really last with the support of educators. Of course, I am not downgrading the role of a head, as they also provide an essential role in keeping everything together. . ."

Then his voice drifted away, as if it just dawned on him what he was saying, and Hilda noticed how his hand twitched. She quickly caught on, placing her hand onto his shoulder.

"Dimitri. . . You don't have to force yourself."

"I know. Please forgive me for this diversion."

The air turned discomfiting. Hilda attempted to lighten things up by allowing her head to bump onto his shoulder. She pointed back to the book.

"Anyway, you make these things sound so easy!"

He wasn't looking at the book; he knew his gaze was on her, especially with her sudden action. If he was bothered by it, it didn't show because he made no motion to move away.

"Well, to be fair, I've been educated on similar matters since I was a child, so don't look too down on yourself."

As he said those words, she wondered about his thoughts of going home and retaking the throne again, if he even considered it. . .

"But you know, should you pursue this further, I have no doubt you'd eventually produce talented craftsmen. I can already imagine the prospering trades and interests in the arts from all over the region."

"Aww! You flatter me so much, Dimitri! Well, could you please continue to teach me?"

As he obliged, she decided not to bring any of her prior thoughts to light—it was probably best if he initiated speaking about the topic right? So she listened on instead, leaning on his shoulder the whole time as she did. Dimitri didn't seem to mind.

* * *

The following week, Hilda greeted him with another set of good news: she had scouted possible areas for her academy.

The sun was setting by the time she arrived back at the cabin. The rays peeking from the windows illuminated her skin with bright orange hues as she narrated the places she had been to with contained excitement. He thought the image was fitting; the sun radiated her energy and presence even more.

"I think the location near the borders of Ordelia was nice. . . I really loved the view," she said with such a dreamy look on her face. "Though Holst told me that it's likely better if we set it up near the capital. I mean sure, maybe the place is more spacious but I bet he only really wanted that because it's near our family estate."

She continued speaking with such an animated and eager way that completely drew him in. Seeing her so full of life, Dimitri couldn't help but be captivated, that he paid no heed to the lingering, betraying twist in his gut at the possible implications it would have with their arrangements. . .

* * *

One night, Dimitri had witnessed her again in another state of panic.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing!"

It was a lie, obviously. Hilda was looking for an unfinished letter she was supposed to send to Marianne, with contents that had something to do with how charming and sweet and caring the "stranger at the marketplace" was and all the things she wished to do with him!

Sure, it wasn't as dire as the whole Holst situation, but. . .

**Her. Whole. Dignity. **Was in the line!

"I'm—I'm just looking for something!"

Dimitri was obviously very worried, which made her a little guilty.

"Well, can I be of any help—"

"Nope!" she dismissed immediately, "Nothing you should trouble yourself with!"

Despite her words, she knew he'd help anyway, because that's what sort of person he was—too helpful and nice to a fault that totally did _not_ help in keeping her feelings in line but grr—! It wasn't the time for her to gush over him because she just needed to be fast—

"Is it this, perhaps?"

In his hands was the very piece of pink parchment that she had been looking for, which he must've picked up on the chair hidden under the shadows of the dining table. The letter was flicked open, and she knew, based from his gaze, that even if he had no real intention of reading it whatsoever, he must've at least browsed a sentence from it.

Her cheeks burned hard.

She just hoped, _prayed_ to the goddess that it wasn't the line about how much she wanted to be with him and probably just kiss all his worries away and—!

In her extremely flustered state, she knew she didn't have it in her to command him NOT to read it; instead, she only did the most logical thing in her mind:

She charged at him and tackled him to the ground.

Causing him to land on the floor with her on top.

Dimitri definitely didn't see _that_ coming, so while he was likely recovering, she took the chance to snatch the letter from his hand.

"Yes, it is _this_!" She waved the letter in her hands. "Thanks!"

Dimitri did not speak a word, only looking at her as she was catching her breath. The color of his face turned redder by the second.

It took her incredibly long to realize how. . .compromising their position was, with her legs straddling his torso, faces _too_ dangerously close that she immediately retracted back to give him breathing space.

"You know, you. . . could've just asked," he muttered, refusing to meet her gaze, "And I would've given it to you."

In the end, she was just thankful he made no clarifications about what he could have possibly read from the letter.

* * *

It was the 3rd day of the Pegasus Moon.

Dimitri already concluded it was no ordinary day, the moment she stepped out of her room wearing garments that he had not seen her wearing before.

Hilda had always been radiant in his eyes, but seeing her wearing such an exquisite dress, with fabrics dyed in pastel hues that matched the color of her hair perfectly. . . It was truly a most beautiful sight to behold.

"What is the occasion?" he managed to ask.

She glanced to the side as her cheeks flushed. "Well, it's my birthday, so. . ."

His eyebrows perked up at the revelation. "A—h! Happy birthday!—You didn't tell me, I wish I could've prepared something—"

"It's fine, it's fine! You don't have to give me anything." The bright smile on her face assured him of the sincerity behind her words. "Though I do have a question to ask."

"What is it?"

"Would you like to come with me at my family estate? There's actually just a small gathering, and I want to introduce you to my family."

If he was surprised with the occasion, he was even more surprised with what she was suggesting.

"Well, my brother might be a little surprised, I'm sure, but once he knows the situation, I'm sure he wouldn't force you or anything since he's really understanding, so. . ."

Truly, he was delighted. Delighted that she thought of inviting someone like him to such a special celebration. Delighted that she even considered it. Delighted that she thought of _him_. The whole idea excited him, if he were to be truly honest. . .

. . . However. . .

"I. . ." It took everything in him to continue what he was about to say. "I do not think it is such a good idea."

Because it definitely wasn't. Possibilities of conflicting interests may arise, and he did not wish to involve her family in his already complicated situation. It wasn't even about him doubting her trust on her brother. If he really was as good-natured as she implied—which he actually believed with great confidence—all the more he felt like he shouldn't impose.

Hilda didn't even ask for his reasons. Instead, she gave him a sad smile. An uncomfortable knot dulled in his core sensing her disappointment.

"To be honest, I kind of expected your answer. But it was worth a try, I guess."

The sound of a carriage arriving outside reached his ears.

"Well, I guess I'll be going now. Take care of yourself, okay? I don't want to hear any news of you sleeping outside again, or. . . Or, I'll tackle you down again, you hear?"

He managed to muster a smile. "I will. Please take care too, and I wish you a delightful celebration."

"Thank you. I'll be back by tomorrow, so don't miss me too much, okay?" she winked at him, causing his heart to flutter fondly.

His gaze lingered on her withdrawing form, walking away with refined grace until the door had closed. As it happened, it dawned on him that he also wanted to be someone Hilda could proudly introduce to her family, not someone she needed to defend with hushed whispers. . .

He wanted to be someone worthy to stand beside someone as radiant as her.

* * *

Hours after Hilda had left, Dimitri decided to dedicate his whole day on producing a gift for her. Buying one was out of the question; it pained him to think that he had to borrow from her stash of coins because he hadn't brought any money for himself when he left Fhirdiad.

The problem was that he actually possessed no skills for anything outside combat training and weapon repairs. He could probably gift her with something practical like a knife but then again, he had no resources to obtain one.

As he was thinking of his options, his gaze moved to the bracelet around his wrist—the one she had given to him on his birthday.

Well, his accessory-making skills were mediocre if he gave himself full credit, but at least it somehow existed, thanks to Hilda.

After making sure he was perfectly clothed for the cold outside, he exited the cabin and explored the nearby forest, looking for fresh flowers with perfectly intact petals.

The rest of the day was spent on him trying to preserve the collected flowers with the materials available in her kit ( _he made a mental note to eventually pay her for all the materials he used and broke_ ), along with connecting them on the chain he had been making the past days. By the time he was done, it was already night time. It consumed much of his energy that he opted for a simple meal before retreating to the sofa at the common area. The air was significantly cooler in the winter night; he didn't bother lighting the fireplace throughout evening, because again, wouldn't it be suspicious if Hilda wasn't there? Besides it's not like it was something he wasn't used to.

Not long had passed, he felt his eyes shutting from fatigue; his respect for artisans just increased tenfold. Just as he was about to drift off, he caught the familiar sound of horses' hooves trotting outside, which successfully jolted him awake. His brows furrowed hearing the rattling sounds of keys by the door.

_Hilda_?

He confirmed his suspicions soon enough when Hilda emerged from the door, rubbing her arms with her hands with such a fierce manner.

"Sheesh, why is it so cold here? You already put out the fire at the fireplace?"

Instead of answering her question, he blurted out what's on his mind.

"Why are you here? I thought you'll return tomorrow?"

She darted to his spot and took a seat beside him. She was shivering, trying to pull her cloak closely together.

"Well, I guess I just missed this place! Been my home ever since the war ended, y'know? But wait, you didn't answer me!" He wasn't given the chance to clarify the truth when Hilda reached the answers herself. "That's the wood from yesterday. . ."

"Y-yes," he answered lamely.

"You didn't light the fireplace tonight," she said flatly. When she demanded answers, he responded with honesty.

Then her expression completely changed, her features softening, and he wondered what she must have been thinking.

"Should I light the fireplace for you, then?" he offered, seeing how she was obviously still cold.

"It's fine. You were about to sleep anyway, right?" She eyed the blankets covering his legs, giggling. "I'm surprised to see you down so early."

He blushed, remembering something. "Which reminds me."

He reached for the bracelet placed on the table in front of them. He witnessed how Hilda's eyes widened as he handed it to her.

"A bracelet? With several charms?"

"Y-yes. I am a bit embarrassed with such an amateur end-product but I did my best—"

She embraced his arm as she donned the accessory through her wrist.

"Thank you, I'm sure you really must've worked so hard. . . You're so sweet, Dimitri. I love it."

With her words, he forgot what he had been sputtering.

"It has been a pleasure to make," he said instead.

"Thinking about it, I'm not really that proud of what I made for you for your birthday either. How about we promise each other to make something a lot better one day?"

"Okay, then."

Their conversation ended in comfortable silence, with Hilda still holding onto his arm. He knew she had a tiring day, and would likely drift off to sleep in no time. . .

But shouldn't she be back to her room?

And then he quickly realized why. She was no longer quivering from the cold.

Dimitri liked to think that months of being with Hilda made him understand how her mind worked. He knew she wasn't simply someone who wanted others to do things for her, like how she described herself. To be specific, she wasn't one who actively sought for help; rather, she was the type to wait until that sort of help was offered.

"Hilda?"

"Hmm?"

"If you feel discomfited with what I'm about to do, please tell me immediately."

Before she could react further, he took the blanket and placed it over both of their shoulders, before his own arms enveloped her body.

"I. . . would like to keep you warm, if you'd allow me."

It was a bold offer, he knew, but he pushed through with it despite his own lingering embarrassment. Because a thought crept up within him, recalling how upset she was the first time she had to leave him for her trip to Garreg Mach. Was it presumptuous of him to think that perhaps the main reason why she returned in the first place was because she was worried for him, even when she had no reason to be? Therefore he was the reason why she was cold even when she could've been comfortable in her own room at the estate. . .

He couldn't see her face from his angle, but he could tell she was flustered the same.

"W-well, okay, since you offered. . ."

A feeling of relief and warmth rushed onto him hearing her response.

He thought it could've been fine, but as the moments passed, he could tell she was far from comfortable—sitting beside each other, her body was stiff around him, and his own arms were feeling awkward trying to embrace her with the most ample amount of force possible. She wasn't saying anything though, likely out of politeness. How then could she fall into the slumber that she deserved. . ?

He decided on his next plan.

Without any warning, he released his arms from the embrace, which caused a brief look of confusion to appear on her face. She wasn't able to react further as he effortlessly scooped her up into his arms.

"D-Dimitri?!"

"We shall transfer to your room." It was another bold declaration, he knew, that he was certain his own face had likely turned into a deep shade of red. He was eternally thankful for the shadows of the night that concealed it.

"My room?!" she remarked with incredulity before her voice toned down significantly, "Wouldn't you think that's improper?"

It's rather funny how things had been the other way around, he thought. It was so unusual seeing her flustered. . .that he found her even more _adorable_. The very thought sent warm flutterings in his stomach.

"It is. . . not," he simply remarked, trying to keep himself together as he carefully laid her down her bed. "Because as you have said. We are a grown man and a woman."

Hilda's eyes widened at his words. He quickly clarified.

"Therefore, we know what classifies as proper and improper."

She nodded vigorously. "R-right! We're just going to sleep beside each other; I mean, we did it one afternoon, right? No big deal!"

He awkwardly let himself sit on the spot just beside her when she started removing the various accessories on her head, letting her hair fall onto her shoulders. She even began casting off her cloak, causing his heart to race even more.

"W-what?" she remarked, giving him a weird look, "I'm just removing my cloak! No way I'm sleeping in such heavy clothes!"

He blinked.

"—And my necklace—"

He blinked even more as his pulse escalated. Was the goddess testing him?

"And that's it! I mean, I'd really rather change into my sleepwear too but!" She allowed her head to fall onto the pillows. "This should be fine!"

He nodded, breathing heavily as he let himself down beside her. To his surprise, Hilda scooted closer to him.

"Well, what are you doing? I thought you're gonna keep me warm. . ."

"O-of course—"

He immediately obliged, pulling her closer with his arms. He watched her steady breathing as he tried to calm his heart.

"There are plenty of other ways to keep me warm, you know," he heard her mutter. His heart skipped, recalling certain contents of the letter that he read by accident. Surely, she wasn't suggesting—?

"I mean, I was fine at the couch, but you just had to bring me all the way here. A warm cup of tea could've worked too, y'know. Or you could've just insisted on lighting up that fireplace for me."

He wanted the goddess to punish him for having such obscene thoughts about her.

Before he could even reprimand himself in his mind, Hilda shifted from her position, uncurling herself and looking at him straight in the eyes. They were really too close that it was likely bad for his heart. . .

She reached out her hand and poked him on the cheek, grinning.

"You're really so excessive sometimes."

"Is that a bad thing?"

She chuckled lightly, before retracting back to her initial position. "I guess sometimes, it could be a good thing. . ."

He thought about her words again, until he knew she had fallen asleep. . . Eventually, he also joined her into slumber. For the first time since winter had arrived, they had slept without much worries, their minds simply thinking of the person beside them.


	7. Chapter 7

The skies were vast, calming, the white clouds lazily advancing past the endless blue canvas above them. Flowers bloomed at every corner of the massive grasslands of Fódlan's Throat, an image definitely worthy of being immortalized through the hands of a capable artist. . .

The cool winds, no longer prickling, brushed passed him, the air blowing the fringes away from his face.

It was peaceful, comforting. . . _Strange_.

How long has it been? It was spring already?

"Dimitri!" called Hilda. She laughed, her voice drifting melodiously in the wind, a sound he felt he wouldn't grow tiresome of. "What are you standing there for? Let's go!"

He followed after her, allowing her to take the lead. It felt surreal, being surrounded by numerous flower beds that somehow seemed endless as they sat down. Overall it felt strange; had he not noticed how beautiful they really were before? His musings were cut short by Hilda's voice, filling the voids of silence by telling him that while they should choose the most beautiful ones, it was also important not to take too much.

"I mean, we wouldn't want these beautiful seas of flowers to have bald spots! Now that would be a crime."

Her words were familiar, something he was certain she had already told him in one of their visits before, yet he still found himself chuckling the same, making a promise that he wouldn't carelessly pluck too much.

Soon enough, he found himself eagerly searching for the most radiant flowers alongside her, matching the energy that emanated from Hilda. Perhaps, her enthusiasm was simply that contagious? Or perhaps it was also him greatly looking forward to seeing her brighter smiles for accomplishing what they needed to do for that day. . .

At the back of his head, he wished times like these would never end. . .

In no time, her basket was filled with the most elegant flowers that glowed beautifully under the sunlight. Beside him, Hilda allowed herself to fall on the heaps of grass, taking the stems of the gathered flowers from her basket and hugging them around her arms as she smelled them.

"Sometimes, don't you just wish times like these would never end?"

Her words clicked familiarly in his head, realizing it mirrored his thoughts moments ago. It would've made him smile, made his feelings elated, and yet the moment Hilda shut her eyes, he felt the blood drain harshly from his body.

He knew she had only meant to relax like she used to, but the sight of her on the ground, with flowers splayed across her chest, eyes peacefully shut made an image of his dead mother flash before his eyes. Along with the rest of his loved ones and the others he failed to save.

"Dimitri?"

Her voice successfully snapped him from his thoughts.

Thankfully, Hilda sat up, erasing every notion of what he feared. As the wind blew towards him, the images of the dead dispersed, leaving only Hilda with a worried look on her face amidst the vast field of flowers.

"What's wrong?"

He simply shook his head, taking her hands—warm, as he had hoped—and helped her stand on her feet.

"Nothing. I think it is time for us to leave."

She made no objections, thankfully no longer clarifying. She showed a gentle smile instead, temporarily erasing all his worries.

They walked through the forest, hand-in-hand. He couldn't recall why they hadn't brought her horse along that day, but it wasn't something he thought about for long, because all that mattered was that she was beside him, chatting happily, laughing, _breathing_.

"Oh, looks like we're here," Hilda said, pointing at the familiar road leading back to their cabin. He wondered why the travel seemed too short, or perhaps it was just him not noticing how much steps they've had with how much he appreciated their time together?

He wasn't able to ponder in it for long because of the sight that welcomed them.

For the second time that day, blood drained from his face, as if he had been submerged in the depths of a lake in winter's time.

A commotion was forming outside the cabin, crowds of knights occupying the roads. Banners of both the Kingdom and House Goneril stood on opposing sides. A distinct cry was heard from one side, and he soon found the neighbors being held back by the Kingdom knights. His mind commanded him to run, tell them to cease the madness, yet his feet felt as if it were stubbornly glued to the ground, his mouth likewise unable to make a sound.

"Where is our King?"

"Reveal His Majesty!"

The Kingdom knights continued chanting their demands. Everything was happening too fast, too overwhelming. He wanted to run, but he wanted to stop them the same. Yet he was unable to do anything, feeling as if his flesh was being tugged away from his bones.

_End_. He wanted all of it to end.

Until Hilda broke the spell, squeezing his hand as if reminding him that she was still there.

"Quick, Dimitri. Make a run for it."

Before he could question the implication that statement made, Hilda was harshly pulled away from him, a pained cry coming out from her mouth. The basket of flowers fell on the ground, spilling its contents. Colors drained from the petals, wilting.

Suddenly he regained a semblance of control over his body as he turned his head, seeing Hilda being restrained by Kingdom knights. Rage filled his core, only to be replaced with an entirely different feeling as he saw Rodrigue emerging from the crowds of Knights surrounding them.

"Your Highness. . ." Rodrigue's voice was somber, eyes unreadable. Behind him, the last remaining surviving councilmen gazed intently at him. "No, Your Majesty."

He avoided Rodrigue's eyes, instead searching for Hilda, only for him to see her knocked out at the hands of the Knights restraining her. Images of her dead body splayed in his mind; beside her, the kind neighbors whose intentions were far from ill, all of them undeserving of such fate brought by him. He cursed at himself for letting them be involved in his mess—

He jolted awake.

He breathed heavily, catching his breath. The room was dark, only illuminated by the faint moonlight from the windows. The cold air enveloped his skin, reminding him that it was still winter—he couldn't get anymore thankful for knowing about that fact.

"Dimitri?"

Hilda's voice was groggy from sleep. He turned his head to her side, witnessing the subtle twinkling of the gems of her dress as she moved slightly.

"What's wrong?"

Her words were painfully familiar, yet he allowed relief to surge into him instead, separating the nightmare from his reality. He told her that _no_, nothing was wrong, as he gently pulled her closer without thinking twice, thankful she was just safe, warm, _alive_. It took him a long second to realize how shameless, how dauntless his action was, and he was prepared to release his arms at the hint of slightest hesitation from her.

His distress was immediately alleviated when she scooted even closer instead, no longer making any other sound, likely falling back to slumber. He lulled himself back to sleep by focusing on the rhythm of Hilda's breathing.

The following night, the thought of offering to accompany her in her room lingered in his head, yet he couldn't bring himself to say it unlike the previous day. He wanted to convince himself that it was really all for her best intentions, to keep her comfortable in the coldest winters, and not because it gave him a peace of mind knowing she was safe beside him. . . Thinking about it, it still meant he was thinking of her, wasn't it? And yet, why did it feel he was allowing his self-indulgences to take over?

Hilda sat across from him at the common area, doing the final touches of the last batch of accessories to be delivered the next day. He wasn't certain if she was simply tired from working, yet he noticed how she seemed to be taking a long time in finishing her pendant, oddly more meticulous even. From time-to-time, he even felt her eyes sneaking glances at him. . .

The observation made him consider another possibility: was it presumptuous of him to think that it wasn't actually fatigue—rather, was she perhaps waiting for him to bring up the topic of keeping her company in her bed? Given the way her mind works, it followed that _he_ should bring the topic to light, but what if he was actually wrong? What if perhaps she was just too kind to decline his offer on her birthday, and that she was actually starting to think he was a skirt-chasing creep who was looking for a chance to take advantage of her as she slept?

He no longer was able to ponder on it for long, because she sat up almost immediately, the chair scraping against the wooden flooring as she pushed it carelessly behind her. Her action screamed impatience, yet her face showed none of it, beaming with a smile that he discovered barely reached her ears.

"Well! That's tiring!" she exclaimed, holding up the necklace before carefully placing it in its storage box. "Sure is nice to go to sleep now."

It was his chance, he knew, so he shook his uncertainties away and just pushed through, not noticing that Hilda was actually still in the middle of saying something.

"Would you like me to accompany you once more—"

"Care to join me again—"

They both paused, each of their words sinking in immediately. He didn't notice the way her cheeks flushed because he was too absorbed with his own embarrassment.

Hilda was the first to recover, giving off an awkward-sounding laugh. "Well, if you don't mind, then—"

"I don't," he answered too quickly that he wanted to hit himself in the face for doing so. He desperately hoped it did not give her any weird thoughts. "W-what I mean to say is that if you are fine with it, then I have no problem. If it certainly adds to your comfort—"

"Let's forget about me for a second, okay?" she interrupted, her words completely rendering him silent. When he turned all his attention on her, she looked away meekly. "I mean, I'm asking about _you_. Would you be comfortable with it?"

It didn't take much time for him to respond. "Very much," he admitted, feeling rather flustered with his confession.

"For real?"

"Yes. It gives me a sense of. . .relief. And comfort," he added, settling for those reasons. He noticed she was still avoiding eye contact. "Why do you ask?"

She began twirling her finger around her hair. "I was thinking you might have offered it yesterday just because it was my birthday. . . I don't want to force you into something that only _I_ find comfort in."

"Well, to be really honest, I have only discovered how nice it actually feels to be beside someone in winter's time. So I do not mind—_no_, I would appreciate it. Truly."

It took a while for Hilda to respond that the long seconds made him wonder if he said anything wrong. Thankfully, she finally looked back, the corners of her lips rising up.

"Well, then that settles it!" The return of her usual perkiness effectively eased his prior thoughts. "Let's be bed buddies!" A pause. "Or, uh, bed companions, whatever you call it!"

Her proposition gave him several feelings that he couldn't name immediately, though he did recognize that his cheeks were warm, and a rather odd, mushy sensation was present in his stomach. Briefly, he wondered, if Hilda was feeling anything similar. . .

"Until winter ends," she added, clarifying her statement. With her words, he was convinced she only proposed it for both of their comforts and nothing more.

"Of course," he affirmed, nodding. "Until winter ends."

* * *

Days after, they went to the usual spot at the marketplace where Hilda shared Seteth's fables with young audiences. It had become a regular thing, once every moon, and even if Hilda didn't have any new books to share, the children didn't seem to mind. Their faces beamed with energy as she and Dimitri approached, and despite the freezing temperature, they seemed to have patiently waited for their arrival. Hilda was happy she did not disappoint them.

As they gathered around her, she commenced her story-telling—the fable of the industrious squirrel and the lazy fox. It had been her first collaboration with Seteth, so it was a story she held close to her heart, even if the fox was an obvious jab at her character.

"Thank you, Lady!" came their enthusiastic voices after she concluded the story, followed by several comments how they all wanted to be like squirrels for foxes that required help.

"You know, Hilda," Dimitri said, who approached her as the crowds of children dispersed, "You remind me of the squirrel."

She gave him the most incredulous look she could muster. "Huh?! Are you sure you aren't mixing up the characters up?"

He looked at her in genuine confusion, which cemented the fact that he made the comment with no intentions to tease. Still, she went along her initial lines of thought.

"Dimitri, just because a squirrel is small and cute—"

"No! It's definitely not because its stature ." He paused, eyes twinkling as he seemed to have realized something. "But now that you also made that connection, it makes the comparison even more perfect—"

He stopped, likely upon witnessing how she began puffing her cheeks, unamused. He attempted to stifle his laughter.

"I mean, please allow me to clarify. In my months of staying with you, I could say with confidence that you are one of the most hardworking people I have met."

It had been her turn to laugh. "You probably haven't met a lot of people."

"I am serious, though. I feel like the fox who is only ever alive in this winter because of the acorns you give me."

She placed her hand under her chin. "Thinking about it, it makes sense that you think that. You didn't know me at all back in the academy days." Because certainly most people—Holst, Seteth, Cyril, just to name a few—they would all disagree with him.

"Academy days, hmm? That had been years ago, right? Meaning it has all been in the past. Perhaps you may have been the fox before, but what I see in the present is the squirrel that you had turned into." She looked up to see that he seemed to be contemplating. "Although, thinking about it, you seem to make yourself appear like a fox, but in reality, you're a squirrel on the inside."

"Aww, Dimitri." She was certain she could have been reduced to a warm pile of goo if it were possible. The compliments were too much! "You really know what to say to make me feel better."

"I have stated honest observations, though, as I am not a fan of speaking out superficial words of flattery. I do not say something if I do not mean it."

Hilda was very much aware of that. She knew she could tell him that; it was one of the traits she liked most about him, after all. . .

Yet she found herself restraining her own words from coming out.

The feelings of warmth were replaced with uncertainties, creeping slowly in her skin.

The sound of children's laughter interrupted her line of thought, and instead of pondering over the aching feelings in her chest, she focused on something else entirely.

"Oh! Before it's too late, I have a request. Mind accompanying me in following back where these children live?"

He looked at her, surprised. She didn't need to ask why he reacted that way. In the duration of his stay, she made it known how she abhorred anything involving dirty work and whatnot, and wherever the kids stayed at was likely one of the squalid parts of the town. He agreed, walking beside her, and then asked what prompted her to do so.

"I noticed some of the usual kids weren't present. Just wanted to know how they are."

"Hmm, so you've noticed." He gave her an amused look. "It seems you really pay attention to your students. You are certainly preparing yourself for your role in your future academy."

She blushed, lightly hitting his arm. "Oh, shush! It's normal to be concerned, right?"

Little by little, the sights of the clean and well-organized stalls were replaced by ramshackled sheds inhabited by the homeless. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the musty, unpleasant smell in the air. It was a part of the town that she hadn't really visited before, or rather, _avoided_ as much as she could, and while she wasn't a stranger to seeing wrecked villages torn apart by war, it felt different, _heavy_, to witness such states in times of peace.

"You know, this takes me back, when I had been on the run."

There was a blank look on Dimitri's face. She also noticed how dejected he sounded.

"After I escaped my execution, I managed to find even a hint of solace living among the marginalized, before Kingdom loyalists aided me. Life certainly isn't easy for them."

Something in her gut twisted. It wasn't that she was ignorant that such places existed—she knew different social classes existed, and as a noble, Hilda never really had to experience being hungry from having no food, nor being cold from having no clothes or shelter. She had the luxury to be _lazy_, to be the way that she was because she was fortunate enough to be born of high social status.

"I wish. . .there is something I can do for them," he remarked.

She wanted to tell him that he _could _do something about it. But who was she to tell him that? It shouldn't at all come from someone like her who was too blind to realize that she was in the same status to help those in need.

Her insides ached even more, when she realized she wasn't even being blind.

It wasn't about blindness; she chose not to give any care at all. She remembered feeling annoyed whenever Lorenz blathered about their duties as nobles to help the poor, but whatever irritation she must've had at his righteousness were replaced by guilt. At the very least, Lorenz was willing to help out, even if it was for the sake of his family name or whatever. She, on the other hand, just _didn't_.

It was then when it dawned on her the huge gap that existed between her and Dimitri—kind, selfless Dimitri. He certainly didn't deserve someone like her. Self-centered. Lazy. _Selfish_. How could she even think that he would like someone of her character?

A shrill scream pulled her out of her thoughts, and they turned their attention to the commotion forming before them.

"T-they're here again!" came the panicked cries of one of the children, who ran to her side and clutched the edges of her skirt. Hilda knelt to offer comfort, placing her hand over the child's cowering shoulder.

"Who?" she asked, eyes vigilant in scanning for anyone with hostile intentions. At the same time, she wondered what had happened to the guards watching over the town.

A horde of malicious laughter was heard coming from men no more than ten, ransacking each shed with no care. Dimitri strode in front of her, hands clutching into fists after he secured his cloak over his head.

"Thieves, are they?" Dimitri hissed, and the dangerously low tone of his voice instantly worried her.

Before Dimitri could even move from his spot, another hooded figure emerged from the crowds, confronting the group.

"But Mister, your wounds—!"

Hilda recognized the child trying the pull the hooded man away as one of those missing in her monthly story time sessions by the streets. The man didn't budge, instead insisting that the child should get away and call the guards. In no time, an all-out brawl ensued between the man and the group of thieves. He had been holding out at first, she noticed, so she assumed whoever it was was likely a veteran in fighting. However, apart from the wounds that he had, he was greatly outnumbered, and with the best intentions of the children in mind, she and Dimitri joined the fray. Hilda channeled all the negativity she felt onto her fists which sent the thieves coming after her flying to the ground. The town guards arrived eventually, and arrested the thieves that had been beaten to a pulp.

"Our apologies for involving you, Lady Goneril," one of the guards said, which she brushed off as she turned to the children who witnessed everything. Doing a little headcount in her mind she realized all of them were there, and those who had been absent was most likely watching over that hooded man they just helped. . .

Speaking of that man. . .

Her eyes searched for him, discovering that he could barely stand on his feet, almost collapsing to the ground had it not been for Dimitri who caught his fall. In the process, the hood that shrouded him in mystery fell down, revealing a middle-aged man with long orange hair with an unkempt beard—Hilda felt she knew him from somewhere.

"Your. . .Highness," she heard the man say, a pained smile washing his features as he looked up to Dimitri. "I. . .knew you were. . ."

The moment he lost consciousness was the same moment she connected the dots—his hair was close to the shade of orange of Annette's hair. . .

Gilbert. A Knight of the Kingdom.

Warning bells clicked on her head, and she immediately instructed Dimitri to head back to the cabin. He was incredibly stubborn at first, but after telling him it was likely best to have her deal with Gilbert first, he reluctantly gave in. She then commanded the guards to call for a medic and bring the wounded Gilbert to the Goneril Estate.

Her nerves prickled with anxiety, hoping for the best, as she accompanied them all the way to the estate. Holst welcomed her with worry, and she briefly filled him in with details while carefully leaving out information about Dimitri. Soon enough, she was informed that Gilbert had regained consciousness, and she requested to speak alone with him.

"Why are you all the way over here," she questioned cautiously, afraid of the answers she might hear, "In the lands of the Leicester Alliance?"

He ignored her question. "Where is Dimitri?"

"Dimitri?" she repeated with feigned surprise, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

"There were two of you who assisted me in the scuffle. I admit at first, I thought you two were simply well-meaning passersby. However, that one brief moment when I fell, I swear I saw his face—"

"Perhaps you saw him wrong," she interrupted, "That tall guy? He's one of my guards."

In her many years of practice she managed to say the lie flawlessly that a part of her felt bad seeing Gilbert resign in defeat.

"The moment I learned he had gone missing again, I searched all over Fódlan. I ended up here because I considered the possibility of him searching for you."

Her heart skipped, yet she tried to keep a straight face.

"Why do you think he'd search for me?"

"In Gronder Field," he began, his eyelids fluttering downwards in fatigue, "I saw you carrying the body of His Highness all the way back to your camp. I have watched over him since the day he was born, so I am rather familiar with how his mind works. Ever since the Tragedy of Duscur, he had never really given value for his own life. As someone who saved him, I considered he would have approached you to seek for answers."

She tried to conceal her discomfort with how on-point his deductions were. Thankfully, Gilbert had his eyes shut, so he would not have noticed any changes in her expression if there even were.

"I only saw His Highness once in Fhirdiad when Rodrigue brought him back. If I had known that he had actually been awake for quite some time, I would have returned to the capital and guarded him personally."

"Would that have helped?" she snapped. She was surprised at the sharpness of her own tone. Gilbert opened his eyes, looking at her perplexed.

"What do you mean?"

She huffed a breath, trying to regain her composure. "I mean, what if there's a reason why he escaped in the first place? You would really just force him back like shoving some bird in a cage?"

"Well, no. I would likely have provided him counsel, though." Creases formed in between his eyebrows. "First and foremost, my duty is to protect the royal family. I already failed once. . .and I do not think I could ever forgive myself once I learn that something happened to him the moment he left the walls of the palace. . ."

"What if. . .all he wanted was just a break from all of these?"

"I would likely listen to his reasons first, but of course I will try to persuade him to his birthright."

"What if he doesn't want the throne in the end, after all?"

He breathed heavily. "Then I would have supported it. What matters most to me is that he is alive. Because if he was, it meant there still is hope."

Silence filled the room when Hilda no longer responded. She then stood, telling him a convoy could be arranged for his return to Faerghus. He neither accepted nor denied the offer; instead, the moment she turned her back, he thanked her.

"What are you thanking me for?"

"I'm not certain myself," he admitted, "Irrational as it may be, our conversation has oddly put me at ease."

"Hmm, sure."

"Please tell Dimitri to take care too."

His words struck her. She turned to him questioningly, and she learned he was staring back right at her. Calming her nerves the same, she wondered what he meant by it. Was he testing her?

"If you happen to see him," he added, before he sunk back to the bed.

When she returned to the cabin, she told Dimitri every detail in their conversation. He was mostly quiet as she did, and her worries increased further the more silent he had become in the following days. . .

* * *

Dimitri gazed back at his reflection.

The fringes of his hair had grown long, covering his eyes like curtains. His free hand briefly brushed over the scar over his right eye, usually hidden by the eyepatch which had been discarded on the side of the sink in front of him.

He clutched the handle of the blade on his other hand, bringing it close to his face.

"Dimitri!?"

Hilda's panicked cry completely startled him that he was only thankful that his first reflex was to push the knife away instead of bringing it closer.

"What are you doing?!"

She looked visibly anxious. Once he dropped the knife, she immediately sauntered inside the bathroom, taking his arms and inspecting them.

"W-wait!" he remarked, trying to appease her, "It's not what you think—"

She heaved a heavy sigh after flipping his arms and hands over.

"W-what are you thinking?" she asked, shutting her eyes. A smile, seemingly sad and relieved at the same time, appeared on her face.

"F-forgive me. I was simply thinking of cutting my hair. . ."

She shook her head as a low chuckle escaped her lips.

"Why didn't you just say so? Come here, let me help you."

She guided him to their dining area where she instructed him to take a seat. He complied, watching as she took a pair of scissors from her kit. She made a remark about him seemingly forgetting that much safer tools were available for him to do the deed.

"I simply did not wish to trouble you—"

"—by possibly breaking another pair of scissors? Well, let me tell you that seeing you holding that knife earlier _certainly_ didn't make me feel any less troubled!"

"My apologies."

"Just don't do it again!"

He nodded.

After seeing his response, she patted his shoulder as she stood behind him.

"Well then, how would you like it cut, Your Highness?"

His brows furrowed. It wasn't the first time she referred to him with the title, though circumstances before didn't allow him to fully address his discomfort with being called as such.

"Please don't call me that," he said, turning his gaze downwards.

"Just teasing," she mentioned with a giggle. He felt her holding the ends of his hair, and in no time, sounds of the snipping of scissors were heard, with bits of his hair falling down his shoulders. "I'm a bit serious though. Any look you're going for? Want me to cut your hair like your cute boyish style back in the academy?"

"Well, that cut had been the decision of the palace hairdresser, so I didn't really have any say for it." He felt his cheeks flushing. "But you don't have to emulate that. Just a nice trim would be sufficient."

"Mmhm, I don't really think that sort of look suits you now, anyway."

She quietly groomed his hair for the next few moments, until she gestured for him to move aside so that he was facing her. She tilted his chin upwards, noticing how she momentarily studied his face, including his right eye. . . It made him extremely conscious, especially with how close she stood, so by reflex he shut his eyes, his pulse racing. Eventually he felt her working on the fringes on his head too.

"Though, I do wonder, that title. . . Would there come a time when you'll accept being called that again?"

Her words had been casual, though they were articulated in such a careful pace that he was certain she was hesitant to talk about it. The shift in topic surprised him a bit, if only because he actually intended to bring it up again to her.

"About that. . ."

"Hmm?"

"I have a favor to ask of you."

"I'm listening."

With all the recent events, nightmares and reflections. . .

"Is it possible for you to accompany me to Garreg Mach?"

. . . Dimitri had decided it was time to stop running away.


	8. Chapter 8

Hilda adjusted her cloak as they disembarked the carriage. Garreg Mach had always been windier, standing on a higher ground amidst the Oghma mountains. The freezing winds brushed unpleasantly against her skin, making her teeth clatter, yet she found it the least of her worries as she snuck a glance at Dimitri, who wordlessly stood right beside her gazing at the massive walls protecting the monastery.

The day had finally come when Dimitri decided to face what he needed to face. Truthfully, it gave her mixed feelings, yet she set aside whatever they were and wasted no time to send a letter to Mercedes about their intention to visit, along with the people that Dimitri himself wanted to speak with. With the use of House Goneril's personal messengers, the letter was forwarded without delay and just two days later she received a response: with Seteth's help, a trusted convoy from the Church of Seiros would fetch them the following day.

Throughout their long travel, Hilda's mind had been swimming in a pool of uncertainties. Despite that, she was certain Dimitri felt that even more, so in the middle of their trip, she took a deeper plunge and leaned her head on his shoulder, hopefully telling him the message that she was there for him no matter what. The way he relaxed and didn't pull away told her that he appreciated the gesture.

The carriage stopped at one of the side gates of the monastery; she wasn't really paying much attention that she wasn't sure if it was the east or west entrance, yet she figured it didn't really matter.

The gates then opened, revealing Seteth and Mercedes, the latter giving them a small wave as she and Dimitri approached them. She extended her arms towards Mercedes in greeting, who accepted the invitation with an embrace and words of gladness while Seteth and Dimitri exchanged nods. She noticed how elated Mercedes' eyes were as she looked at Dimitri, who also had given her an acknowledging nod.

"I hope your travel had been well?" Seteth began, who guided them inside.

She was aware that she could make a snarky response. Long travels, especially in the winter, wasn't really what one would call comfortable. Especially for someone like her who would rather stay bundled up in bed. And yet, whatever words they were did not escape from her mouth.

"It was," she ended up saying. It was short, unusual, perhaps "lame" as her past self might have labeled, but she had a great desire to make known her gratitude. "Thank you Seteth."

Seteth turned his head to look at her. She waited for him to say how surprised he was for the lack of pettiness she was showing, but it didn't arrive. Instead, he gave off a seemingly knowing smile, as if telling her there was nothing really needed to be said.

"Your efforts. . . " Dimitri's voice startled her a bit, if only because she hadn't heard him speak since they arrived. "Both of you, they are most appreciated. Whatever outcome this gathering would have, I will do what is within my power to repay you all for what you have done for me."

"Well, we may not have been classmates for so long, but in that short duration of my stay in the Blue Lions, I did consider you as my friend too, Dimitri." Mercedes said, "And friends, they look out for each other, do they not?"

A pondering look appeared on Dimitri's face, but before she could think much over it, Seteth instructed them to descend to a certain pathway.

The walls of Garreg Mach had several hidden passages, something she discovered during their stay in the war. Despite that, she realized she had not fully explored every nook and cranny in the monastery. It was the first time she walked through the unfamiliar passageway, and briefly, she wondered just how many secrets the place had.

"It was not mentioned in Mercedes' letter, but I had specifically allotted this time for your arrival because it also coincides with the return of our leader."

Hilda turned to Seteth in surprise. "The professor will also be coming today?"

"Yes. I figured Byleth's arrival was the perfect opportunity to sneak the two of you into the monastery. I am unsure of your motives, but I am at least certain that you intend to keep a low profile in your stay here."

At the back of her head, Hilda thought it was best to see the professor too. . . Byleth was one of the wisest people she had ever met, and perhaps could provide all of them the counsel they needed.

Dimitri thanked him again for his efforts. After a couple more steps and turns, the hallways became even more familiar, and soon enough, they reached the enormous doors that she knew too well. Seteth halted his tracks just in front of it, turning his body to face them. Dimitri stopped as well, and she didn't miss the way he clutched his fingers to his palms.

"Better not keep them waiting," Mercedes said.

Hilda looked at him and as he met her gaze, she gave him a nod. Dimitri smiled hesitantly.

"Right."

* * *

When Dimitri made the decision of visiting Garreg Mach, he expected several things to happen. One of them was being welcomed by at least two worried voices referring to him as "Your Highness" while one greeted him with a seemingly detached scowl, which exactly was what occurred the moment they entered one of the massive rooms of the monastery.

One of those things, however, did not include stuffing his mouth full with a serving of his favorite pastries, alongside others in a similar predicament, all because the leader of the new United Fódlan commanded them to, observing them with mysterious, watchful eyes in the process.

"Next," Professor Byleth remarked. Dimitri hesitated, but he pinched an ample portion of the sweet bun trio and shoved it in his mouth. He chewed quickly, trying not to choke himself with the food.

How did it end up that way?

_Before any discussion started, Seteth urged them to settle themselves on the chairs arranged in the room. Apparently, it had been the briefing room of the Alliance during the war when the monastery served as their headquarters. Seteth then excused himself, leaving the six of them in the room. Many chairs were left unoccupied, and the scenery reminded him of the council hall at Fhirdiad, where he recalled his father holding meetings with various men councilmen and nobles all over Faerghus._

"_Your Highness." _

_He cringed hearing the title. He suddenly grew conscious of the chair he sat on, leaning his back on the tall mahogany support behind him. He shrugged the thought how it felt like he was seated at the throne room. _

_He turned his attention to Ingrid, who sat across from him. Nothing else came out as she seemed to fumble for words, eyes appearing watery. _

"_I, I don't know what to say. You are. . ."_

"_Alive and well, it seems," Sylvain completed for her. Dimitri could tell he was trying hard to sound as carefree as he remembered him to be. "We're really glad, Your Highness."_

"_So does this meeting mean you intend to go back—"_

_Hearing Ingrid's words, he inadvertently set his gaze downwards, something that the people in front of him immediately noticed._

"_Hmph." Felix crossed his arms, shutting his eyes in the process. "Seems you're getting yourself too excited over nothing, Ingrid."_

_The tone that Felix voiced out stung. He had always possessed that sharp tongue, and somehow, there was an odd, perhaps misplaced sense of relief knowing it hadn't dulled throughout the years. _

_"Then what other reason is there for us to be summoned here?" _

_The incredulity in Ingrid's voice sent him doubts. What other reason was there. . . ? He knew something was still pulling him back in taking the throne again, so was it right that he even asked for this meeting? _

_"Wait." _

_All turned to Hilda, who had interrupted the conversation before it escalated. He exhaled. He didn't realize he had been holding his breath. _

_"I get that maaaybe you're all excited to see him but why don't we let him talk first?" _

_And with that said, all eyes were on him. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. . . His head felt blank._

_"It's okay, Your Highness. You can tell us if you miss us."_

_"Sylvain. . ." _

_While Ingrid seemed annoyed with his words, Dimitri found himself being thankful for them. _

_Mercedes's voice rang in his head: 'Friends look out for each other, do they not?'_

"_The reason why I'm here is because I am in need of advice." _

_Looks akin to surprise and confusion appeared on the three people across from him. Dimitri realized they were not the same words he rehearsed in his mind the past few days, yet with the way things were, he thought it reflected his actual feelings more._

_"I seek to attain advice from the friends I have known since my childhood. That is, if you still consider me as one, after all I've done—"_

_"O-of course, Your Highness—!" _

_"Then if that is the case, please call me Dimitri." _

_He remembered telling them the same words during their first day at the academy, yet he knew it fell mostly to deaf ears. He was aware how stubborn Kingdom dwellers could be so he could not fault them, but present circumstances were different compared before._

_"I left Fhirdiad by choice, so it pretty much equates to abandoning my throne. Therefore, it makes no sense now if you refer to me by that title."_

_Sylvain reacted first, nodding his head, which was a gesture that Ingrid eventually mirrored , though hers was obviously reluctant. Felix didn't really seemed fazed at all. He even crossed his arms._

_"Well let's just cut to the chase. What do you want?" _

_"Truthfully, a part of me wants to return, should the Kingdom still accept me." A hopeful glint appeared in Ingrid's eyes as he said it, and he almost regretted continuing his next words. "But another part of me doesn't. For I feel that I no longer deserve it. That the Kingdom would be better off without me. Besides, Fódlan is already united, is it not? It had even happened without my help, so I feel it is rather inappropriate. . . It makes me feel that the Kingdom is no longer the place where I should be, where I want to be."_

_The few seconds of silence felt long and deafening as he revealed his thoughts, discomfiting even more with the stares they were giving him._

"_Well, if you feel that way, what is the point of all these?" Felix spat harshly, "Why bother showing up when you could've just left us here?!"_

_Sylvain waved his hand. "Okay buddy, calm down." _

"_Shut up!"_

"_Anyway, I think I get Felix's point, Dimitri," Sylvain remarked, "I mean, seeing you here kinda fills us up with hope, y'know? That you'd still come back."_

"_And please don't say you aren't needed," Ingrid said, sadness apparent in her voice, "While the professor stands as the new leader, it doesn't mean Faerghus wouldn't benefit from having a king. A king is our representative, our symbol for unity along with the beliefs and culture of our region. . ."_

_Dimitri bit his lip, reflecting on every word thrown at him. "It's true that I could've just chosen not to show up. However, it just feels wrong. . . I feel I no longer want to run away too."_

_Silence, yet unlike the first one, it was less tense as there was an absence of the glaring eyes sent to him. _

_Ingrid managed to look at him again. "Then. . . If His High—if Dimitri doesn't wish to take the throne again, what could he be doing, then?" _

_Sylvain placed a hand under his chin. "Well, a lot of things, actually. Maybe he could travel the world, see all kinds of places and stuff, be free." _

_Sylvain's suggestion astounded him. If he were to be honest, he hadn't really thought of the other options. Seeing the rest of the world for himself sounded overwhelming, something unthinkable if only due to how self-indulging it was for someone like him. At the same time however, his suggestion felt liberating, tempting, reminding him of the vast skies at Fodlan's Throat. . Experiencing freedom actually did not sound so bad. Perhaps, he finally understood what Hilda meant about being free. . ._

"_Actually Dimitri, if you really want to be free, I guess now's the perfect time for it." The corners of Sylvain's mouth rose. It was a familiar image—a smile he remembered Sylvain often used during his skirt-chasing days. . . A smile that barely reached his eyes. Dimitri wasn't certain what to think of it. "Especially since there's no longer any imminent threat."_

"_Sylvain! You know very well that isn't—"_

"_Ingrid."_

_There was a shift in the tone in both Sylvain's and Ingrid's voice that unsettled him. They exchanged brief glances that left him confused, as if there was something they didn't want him to find out. . . Whatever it was, however, was brushed off his head because Felix spoke again._

"_You said a part of you wants to return. Could you perhaps enlighten us about that?"_

_Dimitri lowered his head. He remembered his conversation with Seteth. He remembered his nightmare. He remembered Rodrigue. He remembered the event at the slums. He remembered Gustave. Images of all the people involved quickly flashed in his head, ending with a reflection of himself, looking at an empty throne, the figures all seemingly pushing him onto it._

"_There are responsibilities that I have left—"_

_"Tch. If you're simply going back just for that old man's sake, don't. Serves him right for forcing you back to the throne in Fhirdiad in the first place."_

"_But. . .because I left, the burdens of the Kingdom are left in his shoulders, are they not?"_

"_It's not just him, Dimitri. Right now you're facing Margrave Gautier and Count Galatea." Sylvain winked, and pointed his thumb to the seat next to Ingrid. "And not just us. We got here Duke Fraldarius, who, for your information, was intending to abandon his title to be a mercenary but decided to stay to wait for the king to wake up from his slumber—"_

_Felix looked away, crossing his arms. "Sometimes you really don't know when to shut that damn mouth of yours, Sylvain."_

_A light feeling tugged in Dimitri's chest. It warmed his heart confirming that despite everything, despite being on opposing sides in the past, he really had people he could rely on and still accepted him. . ._

_And then came the conflicting feelings._

"_I am glad," he blurted out with honesty, "However, I feel as though it would be unfair of me to go on a different path while leaving all of you in Faerghus—"_

"_Dimitri," Sylvain cut him off, "you said you sought advice from us, and this is what we give you. You don't really have to think of us now. Just do whatever makes you happy."_

_His words struck him. Slowly, whatever force he felt was brushing his back lessened, until the figures no longer pushed him. It was just him, facing the empty throne._

"_Besides, I think this is the least we could do for leaving you in those five years. Right Ingrid, Felix?"_

_Ingrid appeared to be staring ahead before slowly nodding. "That. . .that is right. Sylvain is right. Whatever that makes you happy, Dimitri, I shall support it as well."_

_The two of them turned to Felix, whose scowl only appeared to deepen. He turned his head away. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."_

_Beside him, he sensed Hilda looking at him. He turned to face her, who sent him a smile. On her other side, Mercedes was likewise smiling._

_But, what was it that could make him happy?_

_All eyes were on him again, and he knew they were waiting for his answer._

"_I. . ."_

_An interruption happened, with the way the doors opened, shifting all the attention to the people immersing from it._

_It was Seteth, who was then followed closely by a regal figure with glowing light green hair. Who, despite not being on friendly terms the last time they saw each other, still sent him such a gentle smile._

_Professor Byleth._

Dimitri had always sensed there was something different about the professor, ever since the time they were saved as students. He could say that words that could perfectly describe Byleth were wise, powerful, mysterious. . .and _peculiar_.

The last description was even more reinforced in his mind when he witnessed how the new leader of Fódlan was followed by a convoy of food carts upon entering.

The professor was greeted warmly by his companions, and he just realized that all five of them belonged to the same class in the academy. For a brief moment, he wondered if his life would have been any different if he had the wisdom and guidance of Byleth in his journey.

Byleth took a seat at the end of the table, instructing the servants to place the food at their table. His shoulders perked up when a familiar sweet scent reached his nose. To his surprise, his favorite pastries were right in front of him. Beside him, he noticed the delight in Hilda's eyes after being served with the same food. Just when Dimitri thought it had been a mere coincidence, she spoke up, chuckling.

"Of course, typical professor. . . Serving us with our favorites."

He glanced at Hilda, who looked at him curiously. It was her favorite too?

As he looked over at the other plates on the table, he noticed that everybody else had different food on their plates, but there were unmistakable smiles on each of their faces—Felix included, though he seemed to be trying to contain his own emotions.

_Eat up_, the professor said, nonchalantly taking the cutlery from the table. Most in the room appeared to hesitate, likely just realizing the sudden shift that had happened in the room. Certainly, it would be rather awkward to bring up their previous discussion.

_Don't you think that sometimes, it is better to have a conversation while eating?_ The professor seemingly voiced it to no one in particular, though Dimitri noticed how he seemed to be the receiving end of the professor's watchful green eyes. Because of that, Dimitri nodded in reply. Given the responsibilities as the newest ruler of the land, for a brief moment, he wondered how much Byleth already knew about him. Unbeknownst to him, the rest of the people in the room were wondering the same.

Out of politeness, Dimitri decided to take a bite from the food on his plate. The others followed soon after. From the corner of his eye, he knew a smile erupted from the professor's lips.

For the next few moments, only the subtle brittle sounds of the cutlery hitting the plates echoed in the room. No one spoke a word. Dimitri realized how much he appreciated the interruption, because he felt he needed time to reflect on their conversations. . . Likewise, he assumed his friends were doing the same.

By the time he finished one of the sweet bun trio, Byleth spoke again.

_Hmm, seems like no one wants to talk. _

It was Sylvain again who reacted first.

"Sorry professor, kinda hard to muster up a conversation with this scrumptious food in front of us."

He knew it was just an excuse. If the professor knew, Dimitri wasn't certain.

_Would everyone be willing to participate in a little game, then?_

"A game?" Mercedes repeated.

Hilda shook her head. "Don't tell me it's one of your 'learning activities' again, professor?"

_Precisely_, the professor calmly replied.

In the end, Byleth managed to convince everyone to participate, Felix included after the professor asked for him to humor them as a part of their little reunion.

The rule was simple. When Byleth gave the signal, they had to take a bite from their food.

It started easy, at first, with Byleth giving ample time for them to chew the food before giving the command. However, as soon as the fourth command commenced, he felt the professor was going a bit too fast.

_Next_, the professor commanded.

He stuffed the food in his mouth, trying to chew his food as best as he could before swallowing it.

_Next_.

Stuff. Chew—

_Next_.

Stuff. Ch—

_Next_.

Stuff.

_Are you all enjoying? Next_.

Dimitri paused, his cheeks all bloated with all the unchewed bread in his mouth. His eyes were beginning to water. He also heard one or two of them starting to cough.

_Next_.

"Okay. Enough!" Felix slammed his hands on the table. "How could we enjoy our damn food if we eat too fast?!"

A heavy sigh was heard from across from him, followed by a muffled laugh.

"Thenk shu, Felish!" Sylvain muttered before gulping down all of the food.

The professor only chuckled, then urging them to take a drink. He gladly gulped it down. As soon as everybody was done, the professor spoke again.

_What was it that you said again, Felix?_

"How it's impossible to enjoy our food when we eat too fast." The scowl on Felix's face deepened, though Dimitri was amazed how he could still go along with whatever Byleth had in planned despite being upset.

_Even if it's your favorite food that has been prepared?_

"Certainly not," Ingrid responded, dejected, "Food is supposed to be savored, not guzzled down like some animal."

"No kidding." Hilda said, "If something is forced down your throat, it certainly isn't enjoyable."

"Well, I beg to argue—" Ingrid smacked her hand on Sylvain's mouth, likely stopping him from continuing to say anything inappropriate.

_Life is like that, isn't? _Byleth continued, completely unfazed by Sylvain's desperate attempts to pry off Ingrid's hand and her scolding. _Even if you like doing something, if you're being forced to do it, you'd rather not do it at all. _

Even as their impromptu meal time ended, Byleth's last words rang in his head:

_Let's eat at our own pace, shall we?_

* * *

Eventually, they had all retired for the day. Dimitri requested for them to give him until the next morning for his answers which the others agreed to. Hilda figured it was the most reasonable time for everyone. Seteth and Byleth invited them to stay at the old dormitories for the time being.

Hilda wasn't certain of the time; perhaps, it had been in the middle of the night? She stayed seated on a chair, staring blankly at Dimitri's sleeping figure. She was thankful he didn't wake up from her movements; she figured the long travel and all the talking must have given a huge toll on him.

She had woken up from a dream. A dream that gave her mixed feelings, because a part of her didn't want it to happen. It was not exactly a nightmare either, because perhaps, in another timeline, she would have enjoyed it.

She placed a hand over her chest, feeling the rapid beating of her heart. To put it simply, they kissed. Which likely would have escalated to something else if she had not woken up.

A part of her felt bothered due to how realistic it had been. It happened in the same room, his touch on her lips and arms and body lingering. She knew, she couldn't deny that she craved the physical intimacy. Which exactly was what bothered her.

Hilda wasn't a prude. Sure, she knew how to act all lady-like when the situation called for it—her noble upbringing required it after all—yet she knew she was also curious. In the academy days, she never really went beyond flirting, but during the war, at some point, she had been more than willing to put a stain on that "purity" of a maiden, if likely only due to the possibility that she'd die the moment she entered the battlefield again. Of course, it didn't mean she'd just choose some random guy on the streets—Hilda had some standards too! The lucky guy had been Caspar. . .or to be exact, it could've been him, because said boy was just too dense to understand what she meant when the opportunity arose so nothing really happened between them in the end.

Dimitri was different, she knew. She knew, just like in the dream, that if she braved in and asked, perhaps closed the gap between their lips, he wouldn't pull away, and she realized it was exactly the thing she was afraid of.

It wasn't even about how it would complicate things in achieving _her_ dreams. She knew it would in achieving _his_ dreams.

Before Dimitri had fallen asleep, they had a conversation. He wanted to hear her thoughts on the options given to him: go back to Faerghus or travel far, far away.

At first, she was saddened how returning to her cabin and living with her wasn't even an option, until eventually she realized how things would be better off that way. Especially when she knew that the reason why she wanted to introduce him to her family in the first place was that she no longer could protect him by herself. She knew she couldn't always be there for him. Dimitri understood that, yet she didn't want him to freeze himself over his concern for her either. At the same time, she knew Dimitri wouldn't want to deprive her of all the things she could and wanted to do. . . The painfully dull realization that the cabin was a temporary paradise for them had finally hit her.

She threw the question back at him, asking him how he felt about returning as king of Faerghus. He still replied with such uncertainties, though admitted that their meeting with Byleth gave him more clarity. Hilda watched him closely as he shared his thoughts. She knew, deep in his heart, that he had a strong desire to serve the Kingdom and the people. She had seen his thoughtful looks whenever they visited the children at the marketplace. His longing to help those in need and protect those who couldn't do so themselves. . .

And as a king, together with the rest of the leaders inside and outside Fódlan, she knew he had the capability to make all those dreams come true.

She knew she should be happy once he would finally realize that fact himself, yet a discomfiting feeling in her gut existed at the thought of it. She recalled the way he told her how he thought she was capable of doing great things, and how she hesitated saying the same to him. Because it meant leaving her for him to chase after what he really wanted.

_"I really think you'd make a great king,"_ she replied with sincerity, pushing down all the conflicting feelings. Dimitri was finally having some clarity in coming back to his homeland, and she no longer wanted to be that block that might prevent him from returning.

. . . But it had been challenging to keep her walls up, because when she asked him about his thoughts on travelling away, the walls began to crumble.

"_I've been thinking about that too, and I could say, with certainty, how the thought excites me, seeing what the rest of the world has to offer."_

There had been a glint in his eye that told her how genuine his emotions were. It was such a rare sight to see him so thrilled that she began to question whether she should actually support this option instead.

"_Would you wish to travel away with me?"_

She chuckled at first because she thought he was kidding, but slowly, it dawned on her that he wasn't. Dimitri was such an open book after all, and she knew he was completely serious.

At that exact moment, she wanted to kiss him. For thinking of her. For wishing to include her in his journeys. Perhaps, it had been the most romantic thing she had ever heard in her life. So _yes_, she wanted to tell him. _Yes_, seeing the world with him would be so exciting. . .

And yet, she did not, which was likely the reason why she dreamed of kissing him in the first place.

Because she thought of her family. Her brother. Her school. Her dreams.

She smiled sadly.

"_Dimitri_. . ."

"_It's okay, I completely understand," _he replied, as if reading her thoughts. Maybe he could. Maybe for him, she was also an open book. "_Perhaps, that's just some wishful thinking._"

She wanted to say it that they actually could turn it to reality. After all, they were both at a point where they could abandon things without any serious repercussions. He could leave the ruling to his childhood friends. She could leave her plans for the academy when she hadn't made any real commitments yet.

In short, they could start anew, and be free. . .

And yet, she did not voice out her thoughts. Going onto a journey with no goals may seem exciting at first, yet it also meant facing the unknowns. How long would they really last exploring the world with no real plans at hand? Of course, she knew she'd always find home in Goneril in the end. . .

But what of Dimitri?

Someone of his character would certainly make Holst consider him to be part of their house's knights, but. . .

If only it were that simple.

She wished he could have been a no name. Ironic, since she had pretty high standards when looking for a partner. A noble, preferably, who had good character and good looks, someone strong and could defend her. Dimitri certainly fit the criteria, but with his bloodline, as an heir to a Kingdom, he was way beyond those standards that sometimes, it made her think about how much they didn't really fit well with each other.

Being beside someone like him, who had great potential to be so much more, highlighted her mediocrity, so she knew she shouldn't pull him down with her. . . It wouldn't do them any good.

Their conversation ended with no definite answer from Dimitri. Slumber eventually came over him, and she was about to leave to retire to her old room when she became conscious of the cold winds leaking from the small opening underneath the door. She walked back towards the bed, retiring just beside him. The bed buddy contract still applied since it was still winter, right?

It was what she told herself, trying not to think that it was just her self-indulgence again, savoring their possible last moments together. . .

And that's when the dream happened. Which made her pull away from the bed as she reoriented herself to reality.

She heaved a sigh, suddenly feeling how parched her throat felt. Perhaps she could sneak inside the mess hall to grab a drink.

After securing her cloak, she proceeded outside, just in time to catch Sylvain walking through the halls.

"Hey, Hilda. Looking lovely as ever. Going out so late in the night?"

An amused sound escaped her nose. "Sylvain."

As they exchange nods passing by each other, she noticed how one of his eyebrows perked up. She didn't comment on it, intending on going to her destination because _goddess_ she was thirsty, but she halted her tracks as soon as Sylvain spoke again in surprise.

"Wait a second. This is my room." He pointed at the door in front of him. "And you just came from—"

Heat rose up from her cheeks, even when she knew there was really nothing to be embarrassed about. "Is there a problem?"

Sylvain waved his hands in defense, approaching her. "No, no, nothing, of course! Whatever, uh, relationship you have with His Highness is none of my business. Although, I must admit. If I had seen this way back in the academy, I might have thought of you having ulterior motives."

She frowned. "So you still think that lowly of me."

He laughed. "That was the old Hilda I knew. I wonder if you had changed at all, though."

She lowered her eyes, barely smiling, then turning his back on him. "I do wonder too. Well, if you'll excuse me—"

"Wait, where are you going anyway?"

"To the mess hall. Want something to drink."

"Eh, too bad it's closed. Doors are shut tight." It effectively made her face him again. "Trust me, I've been there and I've tried."

She sighed. "Lucky us, then."

"To be fair, it _is_ midnight. I'm actually surprised to see you up late."

"I could tell you the same. Well, guess it's better to head back—"

"Wait, it just so happens that I have a kettle of water and some tea in my room. Care to come in and have a cup?"

Hilda suddenly felt tired, though she found herself looking back at Sylvain, anticipating her response. She gave in.

"Sure, sure. But actually, would you mind if we stay here?"

He seemed delighted with her response. "Ah, no problem. Just a second."

In no time, they sat on the floors of the corridors, their backs against the walls as they held the warm cups with their hands.

"You know, I think I got my answer already. You really _have_ changed."

Her eyebrow perked up, curious. "What makes you say that?"

"For one, I haven't heard you giving me a single compliment. Two, you haven't really taken advantage of me in any way."

She slightly waved her tea cup. "Doesn't this count?"

"Well, by your standards, not really. I was surprised that you wanted to get a drink from the mess hall yourself instead of asking me. And in such a cold night too. Maybe you really are taking to heart those three things I've told you: stop lying, take responsibility—"

"'—and fall madly in love with me,'" she continued with him with a mocking voice.

"A-ha, so you do remember! Guess you're doing a good part with the first two. The last one, on the other hand—"

"Yeah Sylvain, not even in your wildest dreams—"

"—but of course, understandable, since you already seem to be madly in love with someone else."

She pursed her lips, not knowing what to retort back. There was no use in denying something that seemed obvious. They weren't kids anymore, anyway.

"About what you told Dimitri," she said instead, "Is it true that you'll support whatever path he chooses?"

He looked at her with such gentle eyes that almost seemed out-of-character, especially comparing it to the Sylvain that she knew in the academy. "Yes. All of us had our shares of happiness with the times we've spent under the professor's leadership. With all that he had been through, His Highness deserves his happiness too."

"Okay, I'm glad." She gave him a smile; this time, she made a bigger effort in doing so. "I was wrong about you, Sylvain. Maybe your niceness isn't shallow after all."

He chuckled, sipping from his cup. "You know, if I didn't see the way you looked at His Highness, I would've interpreted your words right now as _you_ giving the two of us a shot."

She rolled her eyes, drinking from her cup as well.

"And if there would come a day when you'd decide to be queen." He then winked. "I will not hesitate to bow down to you because I know we're in good hands."

She turned to him incredulously. "Whoa there, Sylvain. That's a bit too much teasing!"

He simply shrugged, looking away. "Who said I was teasing?"

But of course he was. . . Being a queen was too much responsibility. It was too much for her.

She didn't think she was fit to be one.

In her mind, the rift between her and Dimitri continued to widen.

* * *

The following morning, Dimitri woke up to find Hilda beside him, sleeping peacefully. Careful not to stir her awake, he slowly moved out and gathered his cloak, heading outside.

He stared at the pale sky before dawn.

He breathed in heavily.

He felt like he already knew his answers.

_Do things that make him happy. Do things at his own pace._

By the time everyone had woken up, he revealed it to them. His answers were welcomed with nods and acknowledgement from the people that mattered. . . Satisfied with his decision, one-by-one, Ingrid, Sylvain and Felix had left, leaving just Hilda and him by the side gates of the monastery. Steps away from them, he knew Mercedes, Seteth, and Byleth were also watching.

"Are you really sure about this?" she asked. "Wouldn't you want me to accompany you?"

"It'll be a long journey. The professor has given me information about Dedue, so I aim to travel to Duscur first to confirm his whereabouts. . . And from there, I shall go to Fhirdiad and face whatever it is that's waiting for me. I am uncertain how long it would take so it would be unreasonable of me to ask you to come with me."

He looked down, a sad smile appearing on his lips.

"And this is something I must do for myself."

She nodded in acknowledgement, eyes shining. "Then this is a goodbye?"

"It pains me to have such an abrupt departure, but I think this is for the best." He then shook his head. "But no. We will see each other again. You have my word."

She laughed. "Oh, you Kingdom knights and your promises. How can we be sure of that?"

He pondered for a moment, then looking at his wrist and removing the bracelet she made for him. Hilda's eyes widened.

"This is something I treasure the most. In return, would you give me something you treasure as well so we could return it by the time we meet again?"

She pouted, then removing his own creation from her wrist. She exchanged the accessories they had.

"No fair. Now I have to hold on to something that's totally not too cute."

He took the bracelet with the 'most unique' charms.

"Well, I could say the same. . .holding onto this charming thing made by a 10 year old."

After settling the exchanged accessories on their wrists, Hilda tackled him into a hug.

"Take care, okay?" she muttered, voice muffled by the fabric of his clothes.

As she released herself from their embrace, he took her hand again, kneeling down and bringing his lips to her knuckles.

"And you as well."

A bright pink color stained her cheeks as she looked away.

"Sheesh, Dimitri, here you go again being so excessive. Did. . . you really have to do that? Now I feel like some kind of royalty."

He simply smiled. Because in his eyes, he thought she would always be his queen.


	9. Chapter 9

_**2nd day of the Lone Moon**_

_**Palace of Blaiddyd**_

_**Blaiddyd Territories, Fhirdiad**_

_**Holy Kingdom of Faerghus**_

_Hey, Dimitri._

_I hope you're doing okay. It's been hours since I left Garreg Mach. I'm writing this down in the carriage on the way home, and the ride isn't exactly what one would call smooth, so forgive me for the sloppy handwriting!_

_I actually stayed at the monastery for a day after you left. Funny, because I was already packing my things to go home, but Mercedes asked me to stay for another day. I guess that wouldn't hurt. . . that's what I told myself at least, but I kinda regretted it when Seteth began bringing up deadlines for our next story. Ugh, that old man just doesn't want to give me a break! But looking at the brighter side, staying actually felt nice, overall, because we don't always get the opportunity to see the professor, who made me reconsider my thoughts about my dreams of building the academy again. Did you know that the Officers' Academy would open again in the Great Tree Moon of the following year? I guess knowing that totally inspired me more, though honestly, the uncertainties are still there. . . The professor assured me though, that I can always start small so I wouldn't get too overwhelmed. . . And you know what? That makes sense. If I think of it that way, it makes things more reachable. I'm considering going back to that area near the borders of Ordelia. A building already exists, but the space should be ample enough for small classes. Big renovations could just be done when it's already necessary. Don't you think it's a nice idea?_

_Anyway, I figured I just wanna tell you. You did tell me you'll support my dreams, right? Seeing you moving forward to attain yours is something really inspiring too. Until next time._

_Hilda_

—

_**4th day of the Lone Moon**_

_**Palace of Blaiddyd**_

_**Blaiddyd Territories, Fhirdiad**_

_**Holy Kingdom of Faerghus**_

_Dimitri,_

_Hey. I've been staying at our family estate since I arrived in Goneril. My brother was surprised, though I could tell how happy he was. To be honest, it doesn't really feel bad being here. For one, there are others cooking my food for me so I have more time to relax! But of course, I try not to indulge myself too much. In writing this letter to you, I am reminded not to go lazing around. See, even when you're far away, you still do your job to remind me to be productive. What great power you possess!_

_Anyway, my brother said that Gilbert had already left, though he didn't say where he planned to go. When I spoke with that old guy he's pretty hard-headed, so I wouldn't be surprised if you'd cross paths with him one day. I just hope he wouldn't force you into something you don't like. Just remember what Sylvain said, okay? Just do whatever makes you happy. And don't let others dictate what you'd do! Take great care, okay?_

_Hilda_

—

_**11th day of the Lone Moon**_

_**Palace of Blaiddyd**_

_**Blaiddyd Territories, Fhirdiad**_

_**Holy Kingdom of Faerghus**_

_Dimitri,_

_Snow is covering the lands entirely. All I see when I look into the windows are endless heaps of white and I'm fighting this big urge to nap all day. The winters are really harsher this time of the month. I know you're used to it, but I hope you are keeping yourself bundled up. Anyway, you know how our ancestors used to say that the Lone Moon is a perfect time to reflect since it's the end of the year? I've been doing that for quite some time, so I was thinking of formally starting arrangements for my academy at the Great Tree Moon. The spring weather would be perfect for—_

"You've been writing a lot lately, haven't you?"

She almost squeaked upon hearing her brother's voice.

"Holst!" she exclaimed, hastily flipping the letter to hide its contents. An irritating smirk erupted from her brother's face as he pulled the chair beside her, taking a seat.

"So you got a new pen pal now that you're staying here, huh? I'd like to think you were this eager when you have been writing me letters all those years."

"But of course, brother!" she remarked with an overly jovial tone, bringing her hands together, "How could I not enjoy sending letters to this worrywart brother I obviously love every single month?"

Holst caught on her mockery, ruffling her hair before she managed to complain.

"Hooolst!"

He snickered, watching her in amusement as she tried to fix the tangles on her head. So annoying!

"By the way, not to pry or anything, but my eye caught the address of your recipient. A friend from Fhirdiad?"

Warmth surged to her cheeks. She secured the letter in her palms even more, even if she knew Holst had no intentions of taking it. "Is there a problem? You do know I have friends all over Fódlan."

"Not really. Just found it . . . I don't know, interesting, that you termed Faerghus as 'Kingdom.'"

"What do you mean? Their king, Dimitri, is alive." She caught herself using a tone that was almost too certain, so she retracted her statement, "H-he is, is he not?"

He looked away, placing his hands behind his head. "Of course I know. All thanks to my beloved sister."

Hilda couldn't read his tone very well. It was the first time the topic was brought out in the open between them.

"Honestly, I still can't fathom why you did what you did."

She held her breath.

'If I had been in Gronder with you, I would've given you an earful for your recklessness'—that was her interpretation of his words.

Holst finally looked at her. She only smiled sheepishly in return. Thankfully, his gaze eventually faltered.

"Eh, I don't really think your reasons are important now, since what matters is that you're safe. I'm not one to be lecturing you, since after all, I'm not exactly the least reckless one here."

Hilda gazed at the large scar across his arm—the terrible injury he sustained from battling with Nemesis. She realized at some point, she wanted to scold him a lot too. . . But when she learned how he had almost died, how it was a miracle that he still made it out alive, all the words were pushed away and she was just thankful he was still there.

"You. . . did that for the soldiers, right?" she said instead.

He only smiled faintly in return, sharing how he knew Nemesis wasn't an ordinary fighter the first time he saw him. That despite knowing how differently powerful he was, no matter how dire the odds, he still pressed on.

"Because I know I should," he remarked, as he brought his arm in front of him. "especially if I know there was still something I could do with these hands, no matter how small."

She gaped at him for a moment, familiar words ringing in her head, just as memories of her casting the lightning spell back in Gronder Field flickered in her mind. . .

Perhaps, it made sense; they were siblings, after all.

"Though, thinking about it, I'm still concerned about what possible repercussions you may have dealt with in doing that." Holst placed a hand under his chin in contemplation. "Maybe one day, if that crazy opportunity arises, I should challenge his royal majesty to a duel for the trouble he may have caused you."

She froze, recalling Dimitri's rather unfriendly entrance to her cabin the first time they saw each other since the war.

Hilda laughed awkwardly.

"Aww, you don't have to do that!"

She knew Holst meant it as a joke, so he might have assumed that she was just going along with it. However, she was actually serious. . . because even if he said it in jest, Dimitri would most likely accept anyway—insist on it, even.

"Anyway, I haven't heard from that Blaiddyd kid ever since. During the war, the Empire, through Cornelia Arnim, did everything within its power to change it to a Dukedom, so on official papers, it still is a Dukedom now, even if the rightful king happens to be alive. Since the war has ended, he hasn't made any public appearances yet, so technically, without the formal coronation rites too, its status has not returned to being a "Kingdom" yet. Of course, while I'm sure loyalists never referred to it as a Dukedom, I'm certain they'd prefer to push some sort of ceremony to cement the fact that Faerghus is a Kingdom."

Hilda found herself nodding. She didn't really dwell much on those technicalities, but it slowly dawned on her why Rodrigue and the others were so bent on having Dimitri return.

"But anyway, as you've said, you made friends from Faerghus, so it makes sense you'd write it as that. It must've been rough for them to fight against their king by siding with the Alliance."

Hilda hid a smile. Holst seemed to be under the assumption she was writing a letter to those "Kingdom friends" she made at the academy. That, or he was doing a great job pretending he didn't really see that she was writing to the king himself.

"That's war, I guess. I wonder how things in Faerghus will play out. What is their king doing now?"

Without speaking out loud, she wondered the same.

* * *

Towards the end of the Lone Moon, the temperature slowly rose up. Snow began to melt, and by the time the outside air was more tolerable for her skin, she decided it was time to visit her cabin again. Most of her important belongings were there, after all.

Once she arrived at the fields, she visited her neighbors first, who remarked how pleasant it was to see her again. She returned the greetings, just as she listened to all the stories they had for her.

"What happened to your friend?"

She forced a smile. "Oh, he had places to go to!"

"I see. He was really a kind lad, that one. Wherever he is, I hope he's safe."

She nodded, wondering what sort of things Dimitri had done for her neighbors to warrant such compliments. Thinking about it though, it shouldn't really be surprising.

Just before she bid them farewell, her neighbors advised her to check her messagebox.

"Not a lot go through these parts, especially in snowy conditions, but I am certain a messenger has been passing by the past days."

True enough, her usually empty mailbox had several pieces of unopened parchment. She took the bundle, looking at the symbol on the wax seal—nothing extraordinary about it as it seemed to be those generic ones that can be bought by common folk. Though her name was not indicated, the letters all seemed to be intended for her based on the address. No name of the sender was present, and the handwriting wasn't very familiar either.

She soon learned their identity once reading its contents.

—

_**5th day, Lone Moon**_

_**Goneril Residence at the Southern Fields**_

_**Goneril Territory**_

_**Leicester Alliance**_

_I hope this message manages to reach your hands. As I traveled through the Gideon territory, I met a messenger who claimed he frequently ventured Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance. At this time I'm afraid I do not have access to any trustworthy messengers, but still I am taking my chances if it's the only way to reach you after our sudden parting. If I am fortunate enough for another opportunity, I will send you another letter once I arrive at my intended destination._

_The weather continues to be rather harsh. Please keep yourself warm and take care always, my friend._

—

Her mouth gaped open. Without a doubt, it was from Dimitri. She opened the next letter, visibly lengthier than the first one.

—

_**17th day, Lone Moon**_

_**Goneril Residence at the Southern Fields**_

_**Goneril Territory**_

_**Leicester Alliance**_

_It has been days since I last sent a letter. I pray you have been well? Please continue to exercise care._

_Perhaps it is the work of fate, but I met the same messenger who was able to describe your lodgings as well as your benevolent neighbor's home, so I was assured that my letter safely reached you._

_Onto the good news, I'm happy to share that I managed to locate Dedue. I was overjoyed to discover that the professor was correct; he had been staying at Duscur after the war. We were reunited two days ago, and his people were kind enough to allow me to stay in their humble abode. I confess they were rather wary of me at first, something I could not blame them for, but eventually the atmosphere had been warmer. They allowed me the opportunity of helping tend to their lands. Once spring arrives, the crops and flowers are sure to flourish more, or at least, Dedue has told me. Perhaps, one day, we could visit it together too if the idea pleases you. Maybe the experience would be reminiscent of our visits to Fódlan's Throat._

_I hope I am not boring you too much with my words. I shall be ending this message now. And as promised, I am keeping this safe. Until next time._

—

Just beside the last paragraph was an arrow pointing to a scribble of a circular figure made of more circles with varying sizes. She pondered deeply on what it was until it hit her. Stifling a laugh, she finally deciphered it—a drawing of his gift to her, the bracelet with charms!

"Oh, Dimitri!" she remarked, "You should've written more, you dummy."

She realized she was still smiling as she opened the last letter. It was dated the 25th day of the Lone Moon, just a week from the current day. To her surprise, two dried petals fell from the letter just as she opened it. She set them aside on the table as she began reading.

—

_**25th day, Lone Moon**_

_**Goneril Residence at the Southern Fields**_

_**Goneril Territory**_

_**Leicester Alliance**_

_Hello, my friend. Winds have been less cold lately. I continue to hope and pray that you are healthy and well._

_It seems that my stay in Duscur has been prolonged, far more than what I initially planned. I discovered that the war seems to have left it in bad shape, and while the people seem to be recovering quite well, they still require help. In the duration of my stay, I assist them not only in tending to their fields, but also in helping them train to defend themselves._

_Apparently the Viscount Kleiman had been missing since the war ended, and while it was a change that the people of Duscur welcomed, it still meant that the region was in disarray having no leader overseeing it. It would've become a haven for bandits had it not been for Dedue who repelled them; perhaps his return was also the work of fate, as he told me that during those times, he no longer had a sense of purpose and was simply aimlessly wandering back. It seems the event has awoken something in him. I for one certainly felt happy for him._

_In sending you this letter, I intend to tell you that I plan to return to my birthplace in the next coming days. Even if I told Dedue that he was already free to choose his path, he insisted on accompanying me. He could be a rather stubborn man, but we have come into the agreement that if things do not go on as I wished in Fhirdiad, we go our separate ways. He seemed hesitant, but he agreed, anyway. I know deep in his heart that a part of him wishes to continue assisting his people and I do not wish to take him away from that. As for me, I'm not certain, but the world is really vast, isn't? Perhaps I will go see it with my own eyes. In the end, whether my people will still accept me or not, it is something I have to face, and no matter what happens, I will still feel thankful for these chances given to me._

_I also regret to say that this may be my last letter, or until at least I have acquired means to communicate with you again. I'm afraid that the funds I currently have are only sufficient for my travel back to Fhirdiad. That should be all for now. I await the day that I can see you again._

Hilda noticed that at the bottom part of the parchment, there were words written in a smaller text. 

_I have included some petals from the flowers that Dedue planted. The color reminded me of your hair, so I had to pluck some. . . Don't worry! I made sure it didn't leave any awkward bald spots. I hope they haven't wilted too much by the time you receive this._

She took the pieces of petals tenderly; the colors at its edges were starting to fade, but overall was still pretty much intact.

She smiled, as a warm sensation radiated in her chest. . . Without thinking twice, she entered her room and arranged her tools, starting the process of preserving the petals in resin.

* * *

In the second week of the Great Tree Moon, she visited the southeastern part of Goneril territory, near the borders of Ordelia. She made settlements with the builders who were to provide necessary renovations on the building. It apparently used to be an inn that went out of business; with some adjustments the rooms would be perfect as classrooms and workstations.

She looked at the beautiful landscape from one of the large windows. The leaves were starting to grow once more, and flowers were starting to sprout from the grass.

The feeling of excitement tingled. It was a nice start of the year.

* * *

Just two days later, she felt like she had spoken too soon. . .

The remnants of the empire and Slithers were detected at Northern and Southern Fódlan.

She knew anytime soon, they were bound to attack.

"What do we do, Holst?" Her voice was panicked, worried. The last time she recalled feeling that way was when she learned how close Shambhala was from their territory. It was frightening to think how they could just sprout out of their noses. . . Send javelins of light through the sky and destroy an entire fortress. . .

She shook her head, trying to get a hold of herself.

"For now, I've increased the number of soldiers guarding our gates." Holst said, tightening the straps on his gauntlets. "Messengers haven't arrived yet. We've yet to receive new updates from the leader too. Until then, it's best to be on stand-by. The Great Bridge of Myrddin still stands, but we don't know if groups are also lingering within the Alliance area."

She nodded, admiring how calm her brother seemed to be. She wished she could also possess the amount of composure he had.

She headed to their weapon vault, preparing herself for the worst.

She couldn't sleep well that night.

The next day, she remained by her brother's side, awaiting news. After grueling hours of waiting, the messenger arrived, telling them that various groups began attacking Enbarr, likely trying to occupy the empty palace as their base. Scattered troops were reported to emerge in different parts of Faerghus. The professor's army went south, while troops from House Daphnel were sent as reinforcements for armies in the north. The rest of the Alliance armies were instructed to monitor activities in their own areas.

They had no clue about their enemies' exact numbers. Holst told her that since there was no urgency in calling for reinforcements, they were likely able to keep things in control. They shouldn't act rashly, he reminded her, since they had a duty to defend their lands as well. At that moment, all they could do was trust in their comrades.

Hilda prayed hard once more, that no one, not any of her friends would be hurt. She wished for the madness to be over.

Every time a messenger arrived to give reports, her heart skipped a beat, a sinking feeling emanating in her gut. Enemies at the south were successfully defeated. No news yet from the north.

After excruciatingly long hours, another messenger arrived, telling them that enemies gathered in Fhirdiad. Before she could make any sort of connection, he told them how the forces defending Faerghus emerged victorious, all thanks to their lost king who significantly turned the tides upon his return.

* * *

The following days had been rather busy. Defenses were still rather heightened as seen with the increased number of guards patrolling, but things were pretty much back to normal after the sudden emergence of their foes.

Hilda continued to oversee the construction of her academy, making sure the builders were doing things as she planned. She stayed at one of the building's cleaner, vacant rooms, going through the documents about properties, financial assistance and all other pertinent things. Sometimes, she surprised herself with the fact that she wasn't as overwhelmed as she would have thought. . . Still, it didn't mean she wasn't prone to having daydreams from time-to-time.

Her mind had specifically been wandering to Fhirdiad during those moments. As she was writing a draft for potential instructors to invite, she remembered all the unsent letters she had made for Dimitri. She didn't have any intention of sending them after completing each one; after all, that time, she had no idea where on Fódlan he actually was. Sure, she knew he was heading to Duscur, but what would she tell the messenger? Look all over that place and hand it over to a tall guy with an eyepatch? The last thing she wanted to happen was for her letters to fall into the wrong hands.

Perhaps, a part of her also had hoped that he would achieve his dreams and return to his home, which was why she addressed it to the palace in the first place. It took her longer than she would have liked to realize that it was exactly what was occurring, so it should be the perfect time to send them. . .

Her brows furrowed.

Or was it, really? Especially since as the new king, she imagined he was likely bombarded with several documents, letters and responsibilities. . .

She shrugged. She'll send them, anyway. Probably after writing a new one. Heartfelt regards and congratulations were in order, after all!

* * *

She did not expect a quick reply two days later. Dimitri thanked her for everything, and owed it to her that he could finally come back home without a heavy heart. Aside from his well-wishes and promises of supporting her academy, he spoke about wishing to see her again, which made her heart flutter badly. . .

She immediately grabbed a parchment, writing out her thoughts.

_What is with the quick reply, Dimitri?! Well, not that I'm complaining, really, but surely, you have far more important things to do?_

She continued to ramble about reminding him to rest and not to take everything too hard, because the last thing that she wanted to hear was that the King of Faerghus would end up missing again just because he was burnt out from all the work everyone was shoving onto him! She paused to think whether it was okay to ask if she could visit him at Fhirdiad—after all, she had always wanted to visit that place!—when their family messenger appeared again, delivering another letter. Her eyebrows rose as she read the sender's name and its contents. An invitation?

* * *

From the high balconies, a vast landscape of pine trees was seen swaying against the winds, various wyverns flying across the seemingly endless skies. Behind her, footsteps resounded against the beautiful marble floors.

"Well, how do you like this place?"

Hilda turned, brushing the long strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Not bad!" she remarked with enthusiasm, "Great place you have, really. Wish you would've invited me sooner."

And she meant every word with sincerity. Once upon a time, perhaps she had been too ignorant of the world, having preconceived notions of certain individuals based only from stories she had heard. Thinking about it she certainly wasn't proud of the way she thought of them before, but she was thankful that she had met Claude and made her realize the errors of her way of thinking. . .

He walked beside her, leaning his arms on the balustrade as she did. The regal yellow garments he wore shone under the sunlight. At the back of her mind, she thought that her friend was really a sight to behold!

"I noticed you haven't been regularly responding to the letters I've sent. Figured you've been too busy, which I actually confirmed when you sent me that formal letter asking for potential artisan partners for your academy."

"Heh, thanks for responding promptly! But yeah, sure, maybe I had been busy, but you never really sent an invitation even before you know? I would've come if you asked. Not like you're that far away, Mr. Leader Man."

Claude brushed his hand against his hair, which had grown longer from what she recalled. He chuckled. "Just kidding. Let me correct myself. We were both busy. I just figured this would've been the correct timing too; hitting two birds with one stone?"

"Yeah, I guess this is the perfect chance." She grinned. "You're such a big shot now, Claude. Or should I begin to call you, 'Your Future Kingliness?'"

He groaned loudly, much to her amusement. It was always nice catching him off-guard, especially by using his own little jokes.

"Speaking of kings and Kingliness though, I'm sure you've heard of Dimitri?"

Aaand she must've thought too soon too, because it was her turn to be completely caught off-guard.

"O-oh, yes. I've heard," she remarked, hoping she didn't seem too startled, but the problem was she was with Claude—cunning, observant Claude who was already studying her reactions even more. In a desperate attempt she avoided eye contact, looking ahead instead as she twirled some of her hair around her fingers. Think, Hilda! Fill in the void! "I'm really happy for him, y'know? After everything that happened, he could finally do what he wanted without anyone forcing him to, and. . ."

Her voice trailed off, her back then straightening, realizing what she had just revealed.

She mentally smacked herself. Wrong move, Hilda. Wrong move.

Because in his eyes, how would she know all of that? Reports indicated that House Goneril stayed in their territories and was not involved in the war at Northern Fódlan. Before that, Dimitri's whereabouts were not known by many.

She groaned. She was certain Claude already caught on.

"Hilda," he started, "is there something you haven't told me?"

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Now that Dimitri was officially back, she figured there wasn't any use in hiding it any longer, anyway.

She explained everything herself, telling him that Dimitri had stayed with her for roughly five moons. Careful not to dwell too much on details for her own dignity—because Claude, despite being a very close friend, was still a guy and such a teasing one too!—she instead focused on the circumstances along with his decisions during their last visit at Garreg Mach.

"Pfft, so I guess I was right all along," he remarked as soon as she finished speaking, "Who knew the two of you really had a secret relationship?"

She glanced at him momentarily, rolling her eyes at the smirk forming on his face before looking back at the scenery ahead of them.

"We're just friends, Claude. There is nothing going on between us."

From the corners of her eyes she saw him shrugging.

"Maybe not now, from what I can see. Which is understandable, I guess, since both of you have some stuff you need to deal with first."

"Well, I wouldn't equate my level of 'busyness' with his. Mine's just a small school. His is a whole bunch of territories!"

"Hey, don't downgrade your efforts like that! I mean, look at you, doing negotiations outside of Fódlan. Plus, you have a set goal: opening it by the Horsebow Moon, correct? That's actually very admirable."

She puffed her cheeks. "But I have you to thank for that, y'know! Anyway, you have to admit that it is hard to rule over such vast lands."

Claude made a sound of amusement. "Fine, I get your point. So then you are implying that between the two of you, you will be taking the first step?"

Her cheeks turned warm, still rather embarrassed at the thought of openly speaking the topic with Claude.

"I-I don't know! But I don't think it's about who's taking the first step or not." That, she knew, because she wasn't an idiot in the matters of love. Perhaps, it would be presuming of her to think that way, but she could tell, she could feel Dimitri's longing with the letter he sent because she believed that's how stupidly sincere and dedicated he was, finding time to reply to her obviously not-so urgent letter amidst of all the other work he needed to do. "It's more of. . .the correct timing?"

Yeah, it's all about timing, she affirmed herself. Dimitri had some stuff he needed to do, much like her. She recalled the rift between them. . .

Hilda turned to Claude, only to see that he had been looking at her already.

"You know what's odd, Claude? I wouldn't consider myself as a patient person but. . . With him, I don't know? I'm willing to wait."

She paused, then stifling a laugh. At the back of her head, she hoped, with that stupid overconfidence she realized she had, that Dimitri was willing to wait for her too. A part of her was telling her she shouldn't feel that way—after all, she of all people would know the pain of expecting something and ending up not receiving it in the end. It was much easier to handle her feelings when she ended up not doing anything and then expecting the disappointments going along with it, rather than sincerely exerting efforts for something only for said efforts to be shrugged off and be met with comparisons and hurtful words like "you didn't try hard enough."

She pushed her thoughts away, instead focusing on the amount of faith she had for Dimitri. Perhaps that made her a fool, but she found herself not caring. She sighed.

"Is this what it means to be stupidly in love?"

Claude was silent for a while, but he did not break eye contact when he finally said, "Yeah, maybe?"

She gasped, totally not anticipating his reaction.

"How juicy! I wasn't expecting you to agree."

"Well, what can I say?" He shrugged, turning his eyes to the horizon. "I just think I'm in a similar situation."

His words made her ponder for a moment. . . Until she felt she connected everything. She pointed a finger towards him.

"Oh, right! You totally mean the professor, right?"

She was rather pleased with her conclusion; she recalled the way Claude smiled whenever he spoke with the professor before!

But to her surprise, Claude didn't answer, and the long pause between them made her confidence falter a bit. . .Before she could revert her any of her statements, however, he shut his eyes, grinning widely.

"Who knows but me?"

"No fair." She pouted. "I told you my secrets."

Claude crossed his arms, tapping a finger under his chin.

"Well, I introduced you to my parents today. Not everyone gets that chance, y'know."

"Fine, fine. We're even, then. But still! I'm curious! Why don't you do something about it, those feelings of yours?" she asked, hoping to fish for more information. Hoping that perhaps, Claude would tell her something that would help in her situation too.

"With the way things are now, I figured it's best if I shouldn't." He winked. "Like you said, it's all about the timing."

She observed him for several moments before deciding to say, "You're really hard to grasp, Claude."

He chuckled, but before he could say anything else, a series of knocks interrupted their exchange; the artisans open for partnerships had arrived. Too rattled with the sudden arrival of potential prospects, she no longer noticed how Claude muttered that between the two of them, she was the one even harder to grasp.

* * *

The following days, she continued exchanging letters with Dimitri.

As she was telling him about her plans for visiting potential instructors in the next moon, he told her about the gradual, steady progress of the development in Fhirdiad. Since various structures had been destroyed in the war, restoration efforts were continuously being done. He hoped by the next Great Tree Moon, it would return to its former glory. Just as she was thinking she wanted to see the place with her own eyes, she learned that Dimitri had been thinking the same with the last words he wrote on the letter.

In the Harpstring Moon, Holst told her that the professor called for a summit between all the leaders inside and outside Fódlan. She eventually learned of it from Dimitri's perspective too, who briefly mentioned how he had spoken with Claude as well. She wondered if they talked about anything.

Days and weeks had passed, and the letter exchanging continued. Visiting each other had occasionally been brought up in their messages, but it seemed fate was playing games with them. Whenever he had negotiations within the Alliance territory, she was somewhere else far; whenever she was in Faerghus, on the other hand, he ventured away to different territoties. It came to a point where he suggested making adjustments in his schedules so he could visit her personally, but she was against it—as romantic as it sounded, the idea of a king cancelling much more important meetings for the sake of visiting this one girl did not sit well with her gut, and she hated to think that all his hard-earned efforts would be overshadowed with such unfair judgment of character. Instead, she suggested adjusting her schedule so she could accomodate a trip to his lands, but he didn't seem pleased with it, telling her he would not want to hinder her productivity. She wanted to argue that she could make things work but. . . Who was she kidding? Just three moons left until the opening of her academy, and things were more hectic than usual. . .

Eventually, they just gave up in their attempts to set up a meeting convenient for both of them.

_'Let's stop testing fate! I'm sure it would eventually give up messing with us_,' she wrote in jest, deciding to end her letter with an invitation to him to visit her on the Horsebow Moon instead, which marked the opening of her academy.

It was really all about timing perhaps, she told herself.

* * *

A single moon was left until the Horsebow Moon. By that time, building renovations had been completed, the rooms almost completely furnished, but it didn't mean she no longer had any jobs to do. She still needed to finish more documents that had piled up, and then she still had to study various ways to do her craft while documenting them with her own words. The rain brought by the cloudy skies often made her stay indoors, and it was totally not helping her situation.

"Say Holst," she initiated one particularly rainy day, dropping all the paperwork and making her way to the windows, "how long have you been governing our territories again?"

She felt her brother's eyes watching her as she glanced through the windows. The glass was cold against her palms. Perhaps the rain was making her gloomy and strangely contemplative.

"Well, as soon as I began to learn how to read and when they discovered I had a crest, father had introduced me to the basics of ruling. But officially? I guess right after I graduated from the academy."

She nodded, tracing the droplets that ran down against the glass with her finger.

"I see. . ."

"Hm? Why the sudden interest?"

"Nothing!" she immediately responded, trying to dismiss the whole thing. She attempted to go the other way but her brother effectively blocked her path with his body.

"Hilda," he spoke with a tone that he often used whenever she attempted to escape from something.

She groaned in defeat.

"Fine. I'm just thinking how. . .brilliant you are compared to me." She bit her lip. She was starting to hate the weather; it's really making her all moody!

Holst himself didn't seem pleased. "I don't want to hear any of this self-deprecation. Not in this house."

Her eyes turned to slits as she crossed her arms. "Well, I guess I better go back to the cabin, then!"

She made another attempt to walk away but with a single stride he blocked her path again. Ugh.

"Hilda. . ."

"But seriously, brother. With your achievements, you're primarily the reason why our territories prospered this much." She stubbornly turned to her side, refusing to meet his gaze. "Meanwhile, I'm just. . . Me! I am way behind my schedule for these documents and I still need to complete these module plans and why did I decide to set up the school in a season that is just oh-so full of temptation to just stay bundled in bed and—!"

She realized she had been pacing around had it not been for Holst who completely made her stop in her tracks by firmly placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Okay, Hilda, okay, calm down." He guided her to the chairs. "Let's sit down first, shall we?"

She relented, taking a deep breath as she did.

"Sorry. It's just. . .hard, Holst. How are you able to manage our large territories, Mr. Greatest General of the Leicester Alliance?"

Her brother looked at her for a while, before breathing hard himself.

"That 'greatest general' thing just brings unnecessary pressure, honestly. As for that, I guess I'm just lucky enough to have won all those battles to be gifted with such a prestigious title." He turned to her. "And securing our territories and making it prosper? I guess I'm just lucky too? I mean, I'm not sure if that would've happened in my time if not for the joint efforts of our parents and ancestors. I'm just continuing on from where they left off."

He proceeded to ruffle her hair again. It surprised her that she no longer found the urge to slap his hand away.

"Meanwhile, look at you, dear sister. You wielded our family relic and helped in ending the long war. And after peace was restored, you're building your own academy, right from scratch! If that doesn't make you brilliant, brave, I don't know what would."

Her brother's words lingered in her mind, just as she remembered all the people that believed in her.

For the first time in her life, she felt she could truly attain whatever it was that she wanted to reach, and whatever she felt like she deserved. . .


	10. Chapter 10

It was at the Great Tree Moon when he became king.

The events all happened in a flash. What he anticipated to be a peaceful travel back to his lands turned out the exact opposite; common folk were running for their lives, the buildings and infrastructures crumbling to disarray. The sudden pandemonium rattled his mind and would've struck him frozen if it were not for the presence of Dedue, who assured him he had his back. He handed him a weapon, and the moment his fingers wrapped around the scabbard, whatever feelings of uncertainty were replaced with something more powerful.

Fury prickled on his insides, a familiar burning sensation. Rage seeped in intense intervals thinking of those responsible for disrupting the peace in their lands. The anger was eventually unleashed as he swung his sword at an approaching hostile force intending to go after an innocent bystander, whose eyes gleamed with several emotions—there was fear for almost being in the brink of death, the other was gratitude, which was further fortified when the civilian sputtered his thanks while grasping his hand firmly.

By then he realized that gone was his blinded, seemingly directionless pursuit for the dead. No, it didn't mean he had forgotten about them—they would forever be his reminders to continue living in the present and atone for everything he had done.

His vision was much clearer: he simply wanted nothing more than to protect the living, especially those who could not defend themselves. And he swore to do everything within his power to turn his vision to reality.

The battle carried on for another day. He already discarded two weapons that had been dulled by use, but he went on, fighting beside soldiers with the banners of Fódlan. . .until he reached Fhirdiad.

More fighting. Yet his spirit never yielded, driven to fight for his country, his people. . . until there no longer was any clashing of blades.

_Savior King_, it's what they had called him.

He was still unsure of the title bestowed to him in their victory, but their voices—the chants of the people, _living_—continued to echo through his ears. Different emotions entered him again, but instead of doubt, distress, _pain, _the voices brought him something else.

Relief. Hope. Delight.

But at the same time. . . Pressure. _Hesitance_.

His feet still stood in the shadows of the palace, refusing to bask in the light of the sunset. Beneath them, he knew the people were waiting.

Did he really have what it takes?

"Your Majesty?"

Rodrigue's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked back to see everyone who supported him.

"You got this, Dimitri." Sylvain winked, just as Ingrid elbowed him on the side. "What? I can still call him that. Our little agreement will only be voided once he steps out. Just enjoying it while it lasts."

He knew it was his friend's attempt to calm his nerves. His efforts were something he truly appreciated.

"Thank you, Sylvain."

"Well, they're waiting." He turned to Felix, whose remark lacked its usual sharpness. Beside him, Dedue, along with Gustave, gave a supporting nod.

"_I really think you'd make a great king," _Hilda's voice reminded him.

He shook his head, attempting to summon a smile despite the tingling of his nerves. He wouldn't really know unless he tried, right?

He took the first step, and the next, and the next . . . until he was facing his people whose cheers grew even louder when he was within their eyesight.

He was home.

* * *

It was at the Harpstring Moon when things especially became more hectic. Apart from dealing with the reconstruction efforts of the capital and other affected areas, he also started to have deliberations about reestablishing the independence of Duscur, along with making peace with the Sreng region. All the responsibilities as the head of the region came crashing onto him, and a part of him wondered if going back was indeed the right thing to do. . . What if he failed them?

All the doubts gradually went away whenever Rodrigue entered the picture, who kept on assisting him despite the injuries he sustained from the recent battle. _Rodrigue_, who continued to stand by him despite all his past immaturities.

After a long day with the Kingdom council, Dimitri finally summoned the courage to approach him first. To ask for forgiveness. Forgiveness for taking for granted all his efforts done for his sake.

Rodrigue simply looked at him without a word, before speaking that he'd accept only if he would also forgive him for not considering his feelings before.

After their talk, he felt the bonds of their relationship growing even stronger. Rodrigue continued to provide his wise counsel and assistance in his daily activities. Eventually, Dimitri soon realized he was also giving advice outside work-related tasks.

It happened one day when Rodrigue asked about other things he did for himself, apart from writing to his 'lady friend' from Goneril.

"H-how did you know?" Dimitri sputtered instead.

Rodrigue laughed, seemingly not offended even if he ignored his actual question. Thinking about it, bringing out the topic was likely his intention in the first place.

"I was merely speculating, Your Majesty. Sometimes I see you writing in the middle of the night, and I'm highly certain it's not related to work because one does not smile so fondly in front of paperwork. It seems now I have confirmed why."

"I could have been writing to somebody else," he said, looking away in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. He tried to be subtle in not letting anyone know of his other affairs. . . Especially since he knew he should be doing other things. "But your words are very oddly specific."

"I hope it doesn't seem like I'm prying too much with your private affairs, but various trusted sources have told me. The chambermaids also happen to whisper a lot."

He shook his head. There was no helping it; talks like that were inevitable in the palace, he figured.

"Well, she is someone precious to me."

"I'm sure she is." Rodrigue nodded with a smile. "Which is why I'm telling you that you have my support. I know your responsibilities are no joke, but please know I won't stop you in doing what your heart desires, especially those outside of being a king."

He thanked him, appreciating his words. Dimitri knew it was Rodrigue's efforts in trying to prevent his past errors from happening again.

The following week, he received an invitation from the professor for a summit at Garreg Mach. Familiar faces he encountered included Ferdinand the Prime Minister of the newly reformed Adrestian region, Lorenz the leader of the Alliance lands, Petra the Queen of Brigid, and Claude the representative of Almyra. Heads from the lands of Albinea and Morfis were likewise present.

Eventually, the deliberations started. It ended on a pleasant note that left Dimitri with high hopes for the improvement of diplomatic relations between all the lands present.

"Hey, Your Kingliness," Claude remarked when it was just the two of them left at the council room. "It's certainly great to see you again."

"Claude, I could say the same," he greeted back, though he couldn't find himself looking back with the same confidence. "As embarrassed as I am for my behavior the last time we met at Gronder, I wish to apologize for my actions."

"Ah, that's all in the past now. No use dwelling in it now, right?" Claude's gaze turned to the other people who had been speaking at the hallways outside. "It's nice, isn't it? To see everyone working with each other instead of fighting."

"It is," he agreed, watching the amicable exchanges of their former schoolmates, "This is the world you envisioned, right?"

"I'm sure this is what you wished as well."

Perhaps he did. The moment he took on the throne and assumed his responsibilities, he realized that he simply wished to rid the world of corruption and oppression against the weak. It seemed the lands had the most capable leaders at that moment—leaders who aimed to work together despite the cultural differences they may have.

"Did you know?" When Dimitri looked at Claude curiously, he seemed hesitant to speak again. "About Edelgard?"

Before, the mere mention of her name sent spikes of anger piercing his gut. Now. . . Only a dull, discomfiting tug lingered in his core.

"I have only heard brief reports, but I'm afraid I don't know everything. Not that I wished to, before."

"Well, we're talking about now. Do you want to?"

He pondered on it. He wanted to tell him that just like he said, there was no use in dwelling on the past.

But at the back of his head, he remembered the young girl who taught him how to dance. The girl whom he told to cut her own path.

The realization hit him like a dull knife gnashing at his skin. In the end, she was simply doing what he told her. Edelgard followed the justice that she believed in, no matter how twisted he thought they were.

He found himself agreeing, which prompted Claude to tell him everything he knew. Their battle at Enbarr. Their encounter with Dedue. Hubert and Edelgard's defeat. Hubert's letter. Shambhala. Up until they defeated the Fell King Nemesis.

"In the end, we all had a common enemy," Claude said, and Dimitri could sense how bothered he still was, "Sometimes I still wonder. If it was possible to just work together to defeat that force. And if perhaps we could have just settled our differences with less bloodshed right after that."

He wondered too, if a universe existed where he and Edelgard could co-exist with their ideals and reconcile.

Claude sighed, then smiling. "I guess in the end, we'll just have to prove to Edelgard that the path we're walking on is the best for everyone still present."

He nodded. Sometimes, he admitted feeling unworthy of his title, of where he currently stood. But just as Claude said, it's their responsibility to prove to everyone that what they fought for had been correct, and with the chances given to him, he was willing to give everything in his power for the sake of the people.

"Anyway, sorry for bringing up such a heavy topic after a nice deliberation."

Claude brought his arms behind his head, that very casual gesture he often did when they were students. Some things never change, he supposed.

"Just to change the topic, I'm wondering. Are you already being pressured to have heirs?"

"Claude!" he remarked with disbelief, though a part of him appreciated the other's efforts to lighten things up. That part of him didn't change too, apparently.

"What? As a king I'm sure you know what I mean. All the talks of political marriages and stuff?"

Dimitri shook his head, trying to contain a sigh about to be released from his lips. "Just to humor you, _no_, Claude. I have only recently ascended the throne too, after all."

"So are you saying you'll consider the marriage proposals _when_ they come?"

With the tone Claude was using, Dimitri was starting to feel the prickles of irritation.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Just wanted to see if you're the type to get married for convenience." A pause. "Or for love."

Dimitri observed Claude closely, ignoring the rush of heat traveling to his face. He couldn't tell how much Claude knew about him and Hilda, or if he even knew anything at all.

"Don't get me wrong, Dimitri. I'm simply asking this as a concerned friend."

It annoyed him further that he also couldn't tell if Claude was doing it as a 'concerned friend' for _him—_if he even considered him one? Then perhaps he was really referring to his friend Hilda. Did he really know?

The rising grin at the corners of Claude's mouth was seemingly daring him to clarify who he meant.

But he wasn't simply going to let him win.

"There is someone I have in mind," Dimitri said instead, "Someone I wish to spend my life with."

"Mhmm. That's great."

"However, I'm unsure what she'd think about marriage."

Claude's eyes widened, a reaction he realized he wasn't expecting as well. The other's eyebrow then perked up.

"Why's that?"

"Politics is not her thing. She told me herself." He looked away, sensing a mild ache in his chest. "It's not something we have discussed, but by being with me, it's something she definitely has to face. I am uncertain of her feelings about it."

Claude crossed his arms. His gaze turned upwards, as if he was in deep thought. At the back of his head, Dimitri wondered if all his theatrics were also part of some sort of scheme he was brewing.

"How about you, Claude?" he asked before the other managed to say anything else. "If my assumptions are correct, you will soon rule Almyra yourself; there is a reason why the king of Almyra has chosen you to be here."

"And what of it?"

"I'm throwing the question back at you."

Claude didn't hide how amused he was with the turn of events.

"Well, allow me to humor you too. Like you, I'd prefer a union for love. In fact, I already have someone in mind too."

Dimitri eyed him curiously. Claude on the other hand, didn't seem fazed despite casually just revealing something about his private life.

"Maybe it's best if I don't reveal who it is," he remarked with a sly grin, "I mean, you didn't tell yours. It'd be awkward if we're actually talking about the same person. Wouldn't want us to wage wars again for fighting over a maiden, right?"

Dimitri stared back at Claude's eyes, wanting to tell him how ridiculous that sounded. In the end, assuming both of them really did love the same person, Dimitri thought he wouldn't go as far as to disrupt peace over such matters. Such drastic measures were unneeded when it would all depend on the decision and feelings of the person in question. If Hilda decided to choose Claude instead of him, then it simply meant he, Dimitri, already lost. After all, above all else, Hilda's happiness was what he wanted, even if that happiness wasn't with him.

But. . . that thought of himself losing, it didn't even cross his mind before. Because Dimitri was certain Hilda would choose _him_.

_Right_?

A tinge of doubt suddenly flickered within him, despite all their memories together. Then again, how could he be so confident when Hilda and Claude likely had more memories together even before the war? Wasn't Hilda also speaking fondly about someone in one of her letters to Marianne? Was that referring to Claude, after all?

He then realized that with the sudden spiral of thoughts in his head, he must've had such a dumbfounded expression. . .which surely, Claude had caught on, judging by the insufferable grin forming on his mouth. A grin that somehow seemingly lacked any malice coming from someone who was supposedly his rival in love. For a moment, Dimitri wondered if he already had fallen into one of his schemes without knowing it.

Before he managed to question him again, Lorenz had interrupted by calling Claude's name, which the other immediately responded to. Dimitri did not possess the will to stop him.

"A word of advice, though, Dimitri. If you're really certain about your feelings, go for it. Go all out. Prove your love to her." He winked. "Again, just doing this as a concerned friend."

He definitely did think about it for the days to come, and he wondered if that was actually Claude's plan in the end.

* * *

It was at the Garland Moon when he actively began to seek advice on what to do. Of course, their letter exchanges still continued, but Claude's words still echoed in his head: what more could he do in their current situation?

"Have you considered meeting her again?" asked Sylvain.

Dimitri pondered on it. He had thought about it at some point, but. . .

"A nice suggestion," Ingrid said, looking rather eager to contribute to their discussion. "Perhaps His Majesty can also invite her over to the best food places in town. Having conversations while eating is a nice way to bond!"

"Though if we're talking about food choices, I'm sure it'd be better if it was somewhere outside Faerghus. . . We're not exactly known for our food choices."

"Well, I get your point, but wouldn't it be nice if His Majesty shows her the best of our lands too? I hear Hilda is quite fond of shopping, so they could take a stroll at the capital afterwards."

"Hmm, good point. Maybe they could have lunch here at the palace, food served by the best chefs in the lands, then walk through the loveliest sights of Fhirdiad while holding hands. Definitely romantic!"

Felix made a face. "Ugh, you two are making me sick."

"Well, who invited the two of us here in the first place?" Ingrid snapped back. "Maybe you should try to contribute instead of complaining!"

"When the old man told me it was time for me to learn how to be the right hand of the King on this moon, I wasn't expecting those duties involved dealing with a lovestruck fool."

"_Harsh_," Sylvain commented, though chuckled afterwards, "But spoken like a guy who doesn't know a thing about love!"

Felix rolled his eyes. "Look who's talking."

"Okay, enough!" Ingrid interjected. "We're not being productive here. Sorry, Your Majesty."

"No, it's quite fine, Ingrid. If anything, I should be the one apologizing to all of you for involving you in this predicament.

"Nonsense, Your Majesty." Sylvain said, "Of course we'd be happy to help. Especially since the future of the Kingdom lies on this. Right, Felix?"

"Tch, fine, _fine_, I get it. Let's just get this damn thing over with." He crossed his arms stubbornly before speaking again. "Why don't you just ask her first? You're regularly sending each other letters anyway. Is meeting up even possible? It's pointless to think of all these things when both of you can't even meet in the first place."

In the end, Felix had been right, because circumstances simply didn't allow them the opportunity to see each other. . . She even declined the offer of him making adjustments, which he did not take against her. He knew she had reasons, much like how he did not want her to go out of her way just to see him with all the work that she needed to do. Perhaps they simply needed to wait for the right time.

It was at the Blue Sea Moon when Hilda sent a letter inviting him over to the opening of her academy. The event was two moons away, plenty enough time for him to make adjustments in his work so he could reserve those days just for her.

"Hmph, you finished this way earlier than I expected," Felix said one day as he browsed through the documents he finished revising.

His comment unsettled Dimitri for a moment, so he asked Felix to provide an honest feedback on the quality of his work. To his surprise, an amused sort of noise rushed out of the other's nose, and a rare smile made its way to his face.

"No, this is quite good. Keep it up."

Dimitri returned a smile, as he began to gather the rest of his belongings. Perhaps, the thought of finally getting to meet Hilda again inspired him to finish all the work needed to be done. The pace went on even until it was the Verdant Rain Moon, up until it was finally the Horsebow Moon.

* * *

The opening of the Goneril Artisan Academy had been a success. The people she invited made it, and all the presentations made by her partner teachers went on smoothly. Perhaps it had been the best choice to open it up on that particular month since it coincided with the foundation day of the Leicester Alliance, meaning festivities were all over the place too. It definitely aided in setting up such a joyous mood against the somberness of the autumn skies. It was an exhausting ordeal, but it was the good kind of exhaustion, she'd like to think.

"Hilda."

Her heart almost jumped, but she kept herself in control, calmly, _carefully_, placing down a prized Almyran vase made by one of the artisan's from Claude's lands. She breathed heavily, mentally preparing herself by securing a demure smile on her lips, before turning around slowly. . .

"Dimitri!" she squeaked, and she realized all her efforts were just laid down to waste by herself. That didn't matter, she thought, since she was just _so _happy to see him again while looking all regal and handsome and happy that she wanted nothing more than to embrace him. . . Only she stopped before she did, realizing that while most have already vacated the building, there were still a few who had been staying to check out pieces of art on display. "I'm so glad you can make it!"

Apart from the heartfelt gratitude she extended in her ending speech where she recognized all the important figures that went out of their way to visit her academy, there really had been no time for them to actually reconnect with such a busy day. That fact however, didn't seem to bother Dimitri at all; if anything he appeared to mirror the excitement that she was trying to conceal.

She ended up taking his hands and squeezing them in a giddy manner, until she felt some piercing glares jabbing at her from the sides. Judging from the blue scarf around her neck, the set of eyes belonged to one of his Kingdom knights, and Hilda wanted to smack herself for forgetting that Dimitri was already officially a king and what she was doing to him in a public place was likely an affronting act in their culture. She immediately let go, only for her hands to be captured again by Dimitri's massive ones. His firm, yet gentle gesture made her heart flutter even more.

"I kept my promise, of course." His thumb hesitantly caressed the knuckles on her hands, and she felt her face growing warmer by the second. . . It felt really nice and sweet and all but. . . they were starting to make a scene and all the unwanted attention from the people surrounding them was just ruining the moment that she wanted to hurl her prized necklaces on their faces so they could mind their own business!

Of course, Hilda had a sense of control in the end, so she ended up inviting him to the terraces where she knew they could have some semblance of privacy, only the Kingdom guard kept following them. Thankfully, with a single raise of Dimitri's hand, the guard understood the message that she need not follow them outside.

"My apologies," he said the moment they were outside the earshot of everyone else. "Perhaps I should've asked Dedue to accompany me here instead."

"Oh, it's _fine_. Your little lady knight is just doing her job!" She laughed awkwardly, trying to hide the fact how annoyed she actually was with the nosy guard. "I mean, who knows what sort of things I could do to the head of Faerghus, right?"

"Yes. You certainly have done plenty to me. . . or rather, for me."

His words were articulated with such a serious voice that it succeeded in taking away her prior annoyance.

"Dimitri," she began, trying to stop giggling, "Have you forgotten what I said about being too serious?"

"Of course not." The corners of his lips rose, and she felt delighted to see how seemingly effortless it took him to do so. "But as much as I want to try refining my humor, I'm afraid the Kingdom lacks such advisors."

"Haha, good one, Dimitri," she said, though she sensed there was likely some truth in what he had revealed, "By the way, thank you for sending supplies for my academy. You really didn't have to, you know."

"It's no problem. Think of it as my way of repaying you for all the bottles I've broken when I had the pleasure of being taught by you."

She giggled again, recalling those funny moments. "Oh! Before I forget!"

She pulled her sleeve to reveal a bracelet that she kept hidden not out of shame, but to keep it protected and intact for the person it really belonged to. She released it from her wrist and transferred it to Dimitri's. She thought about how adorable he looked watching her do so.

"There! Back to its owner!" she said, as she observed how he began rummaging for something inside his coat. In no time he found what he was looking for and revealed the precious bracelet that she knew he worked hard to do. She waited for him to place it on her wrist like she did with hers, but he simply let it dangle between his fingertips without saying a word. She gave him an odd look before attempting to grab it from his hand, only he swiftly pulled it away upwards before she did. A surprised look appeared on his face, as if his previous action was done by reflex. She made another pathetic attempt to grab it, even jumping in the process, only he moved his arm upwards even more.

"Dimitri?" She forced a smile, her irritation growing again by the second. "What are you doing?"

A rather unusual sheepish smile appeared on his face, and the rare sight of it almost urged her to forgive this apparent poking fun at her height.

"M, my apologies," he finally said, bringing his arm down at a level that she could finally reach, though she no longer made any attempts to get it. Instead she incredulously crossed her arms. It made him seem a little panicked, but his obvious amusement overpowered it. "I am aware that was too unbecoming, perhaps excessively even. I just find it endearing to see you act this way."

"Ha-ha," she said, trying to keep her act and not to focus on the fact that he kinda called her cute in his own Dimitri-way even if he was teasing her the same. "You know I could've totally pounced you to get it, but I wouldn't really wanna be at the receiving end of your guard's weapons!"

"That is simply unthinkable," he replied, as he reached out for her hand. He seemed to be waiting for her permission to take it, and with a sigh she finally gave in, letting him place the bracelet around her wrist. "I would never let anyone touch a single strand of your hair."

His unexpected words struck her so much that it made her heart flutter fondly. It was definitely a challenge to keep up the whole 'angry' act around him.

"Oh, here you are again being too extreme!" She tried to ignore the tingling heat enveloping her cheeks, and her belief that he had likely already reached the peak of his teasing somehow made her relieved that he would not really point out what a huge blushing mess she was.

Instead he simply smiled in response, then looking at the landscape before them. Various autumn leaves occasionally flew with the wind, and it reminded her that it was roughly a year since Dimitri literally barged into her life.

"I'm really happy to see you again, Hilda. And to witness you making it this far to attain your dreams."

A lot had changed since then, she realized, and it was a sort of change that she never really expected to happen. . .

"I could say the same to you, Dimitri," she said, returning the smile, thankful for all those changes that had occurred.

She invited him to eat out at a small restaurant in town. It caused several curious eyes watching over them, which she thought was inevitable; Dimitri had a rather commanding presence even before—what more with the position he presently had. Still, she was rather thankful for the ongoing festival since various important people were all over the place anyway, so perhaps the sight of them together wouldn't raise too many questions. All the attention was the least of her worries too, since she decided to focus on cherishing every moment they had together until it was time for him to go.

* * *

Weeks passed. They continued communicating through letters, keeping each other updated with what was happening at their side of the world. Hilda felt delighted every time she learned of Dimitri's efforts in rebuilding connections with different territories, something that the professor supported as the leader overseeing the whole of Fódlan. Meanwhile, Dimitri was also interested to read about her descriptive stories of how she was developing various art techniques with her fellow instructor Ignatz, who had been working with her to come up with a method of applying pigments to her creations. It reached a point when he was surprised to receive a sample of their joint effort in a form of a radiant blue charm which she sent together with her letter.

_Looks beautiful, right? I made sure to mix the pigments correctly so it would match that big blue cape you put around your shoulders. Hope I got it right!_

He treasured it, of course, and requested a trusted craftsman to add whatever trinket to transform it into a brooch. It easily became an accessory he wore around the palace often.

Since then, Hilda also began to receive various gifts, such as specialty sweets from Faerghus along with some bouquets of flowers. The latter was something she especially appreciated, and at the same time left her wondering where he had gotten them, considering the present season.

The box of sweets were rather easy to hide, but the flowers were something bigger and grandiose, and it only took a matter of time until people in her household started noticing them.

"What's this?" Holst asked her, "Does my sister already have a suitor without me knowing it?"

She made a sound feigning innocence. "Hmm? Maybe you're thinking too much, brother! Can't these flowers be something I use for my work?"

While obviously a lie, she figured adding some truth in it, anyway. Because while she often displayed the flowers in her room, staring at them lovingly from time-to-time, she also plucked some of their petals to preserve them into her accessories later on.

Those weeks turned to moons without them really realizing it, until winter began with the Red Wolf Moon. It left Dimitri busier with the foundation day of Faerghus occurring, but he did not forget to spare a moment for their letters.

_In the next moon, would you like to come visit me at the palace? I am aware how the extreme cold brings you displeasure, but I was urged to have a celebration for my birthday. It would bring me great delight to have your presence in such an occasion, _he wrote.

_Oh, I'd love to, _she eagerly replied_, I hope you can also show me around the best parts of Fhirdiad too! _

She didn't really care if that meant walking around outside in winter time. She was going to meet him again, and it's what really mattered.

* * *

As promised, they met again in the Ethereal Moon. Hilda had requested if she could come a day before his birthday, which Dimitri didn't mind—_no_, it was a suggestion he actually preferred. They learned from their prior meeting that such an occasion would likely divide Dimitri's attention, much like Hilda's during the opening of her academy. A day spent with just the two of them would really do nicely.

Eventually, it then proved to be the best decision, since a snowstorm was brewing the moment she arrived at the gates of Blaiddyd palace. The snow and winds were getting stronger as she stepped out from her carriage. Both were only thankful that she made her arrival at the perfect time, since being on the road in a blizzard was no safe venture.

When Hilda entered the palace for the first time, she was rather overwhelmed with the line of servants greeting her. Her eyes briefly scanned the high intricate ceilings and walls of the palace—there was definitely a different sort of grandness compared to the castles of Almyra and Enbarr. Nevertheless, even if it wasn't her first time to enter such majestic buildings, she was not really any less awe-stricken. Her home estate, which she thought could already be considered big, felt relatively small compared to it. Her thoughts were put to a halt when Dimitri greeted her, who then instructed some of the servants to accompany her to the guest room where she could rest.

"I'm very relieved you made it safely," he said, "The travel must have been tiring, however. Please take your time for a rest."

She smiled. From their territory, Fhirdiad was farther in distance than Garreg Mach, and traveling in the winter didn't help in making things comfortable. She knew she wanted to spend time with him as soon as she could, but physical fatigue would get her nowhere. She gladly accepted his offer, before promising she'd make herself refreshed and full of energy by the time she would see him again later.

A few hours had been enough for her to freshen up, and in no time, she met up with Dimitri again.

"I hope you rested well?"

"I did! Thank you."

She showed him a grin. If she were to be honest, she could have spared a few more hours cooped up in such comfortable mattresses, especially with such a massive bed weather, but she wasn't intending on wasting time in her room when she wanted to spend it more with him.

"How are your preparations for your birthday?" she then asked, as they passed by one of the windows at the hallways. She momentarily snuck a glance at it; the glass was pitch white, and she could hear the howling of the winds outside.

"It has been going well, I suppose," he replied, "Except for the fact that some deliveries might get delayed due to the storm."

"Aww, so if the storm doesn't stop any time, the celebration might have to be cancelled?"

"I foresee it happening. If the snow piles up too much, the roads will get blocked. For the safety of the guests, it might be for the best too."

She nodded. "I see. I understand."

"But to be honest though, I was against having a celebration, but—"

"Wait. Let me guess," she interjected, "Was it Sylvain?"

He chuckled. "Correct. He explained a celebration would be nice for me to take a break, as well as to. . ." He then paused, making her look at him questioningly.

"'To?'"

He suddenly looked shy. He shook his head.

"N-nothing!" he remarked, but she was having none of it.

"Dimitri. . ."

"Alright," he quickly said, giving in, "He said it would also be the perfect chance to invite you here and. . ."

"'_And_?'"

"He figured the chance of you accepting would be high, considering it's a special occasion."

She thought how cute he looked being embarrassed with such a revelation.

"Well, he is right about that, you know!" she remarked, hoping it would make him feel less awkward, "Besides, the academy is closed for the other half of this moon anyway, so I'm pretty much free until the 30th! Lucky you, huh?"

He nodded with a smile. "Indeed I am."

Since the storm wasn't subsiding yet, they mostly stayed indoors. At first, she was kind of disappointed since she really wanted to visit the shops around the capital, but it was unwise to go out with such weather, anyway. In the end, she didn't mind it since it gave Dimitri the chance to give her a personal tour of his home. At some point they encountered Felix and Dedue, who accompanied them in going through the various parts of the palace. It took longer than she expected with how enormous it was so it was a tiring ordeal; nonetheless, the experience was rather fun the same. Especially the bits when Dimitri was _so_ embarrassed when Felix unashamedly revealed how sending her sweets and flowers had been Ingrid's and Dedue's ideas, respectively. They eventually had dinner until it was time for them to retire to their respective quarters.

The storm had stopped by the time it was midnight, just when she had woken up. Or perhaps it stopped a few hours before? Hilda wasn't really certain. She attempted to sleep again, but ultimately failed. With a sigh, she quickly fixed her hair, donned some gloves and a mantle, before proceeding to the door. She doubted staying would make her fall asleep easily, so perhaps a walk might do her good.

Opening the door quietly, she discovered a servant—likely tasked to guard and attend to her—who was already dozing off on the sides. She tried to walk away even more carefully so as not to stir him awake.

She walked through the dim halls, retracing her steps to one of the palace balconies that had a nice view of the capital during the day—or so Dimitri said. She doubted she could see it at night, but she figured she wanted to check anyway.

The chilly air pricked her skin as she pushed the heavy door going outside, but she chose to ignore it, walking carefully through the floors that had partly been cleared of snow. Maybe the storm had stopped for a while for Dimitri's men to have cleaned them already. She was rather impressed with the efficiency.

She reached the end of the balcony only to discover that as she anticipated, there was not much of a view on such a dark winter day, with only the lights from the palace illuminating some parts of the area. Still, the night sky was clear of clouds, with the moon and stars shining brightly. She figured she should enjoy it before going back to her room again.

It had been relatively quiet, until she heard the door being pushed open.

"You are still awake?"

"Oh, hi!" she said, waving a hand as Dimitri approached, still clad in the outfit he was wearing a while ago. It made her a bit conscious that she didn't bother changing back into her outdoor dress, which, if she thought about it, was a bit strange of her to think, considering it wasn't really the first time he saw her in her night clothes. "And yes. Figured a little walk could help me go back to sleep. And you? Don't tell me you were still working at this hour?"

He scratched the back of his neck looking like a child guilty of stealing some sweets.

"Well, I was just rechecking some documents to make sure everything is set for the month. . . until I saw you through the window from where I was."

"Well, it's a good thing I went here, then!" Hilda said, placing her arms on her waist, "Perhaps if you're my reminder to be productive, _I_ should be your reminder to take a rest."

He made a sound of amusement. "That's. . .not a bad idea."

She laughed, only for her to visibly shiver when the wind rushed briefly. Dimitri shook his head with a chuckle, taking off his cloak and placing it over her shoulders. It was rather heavy—she was basically drowning on it!—but his warmth lingered and it was something she greatly appreciated. . .

"Thank you, Dimitri."

"It's my pleasure. Though I am rather disappointed to see that the person who taught me to take care of myself isn't doing a good job taking care of her own."

She blushed, and just before she could argue that she wasn't really planning on staying long outside, he remarked he was only kidding.

"You know, maybe I did this on purpose, because I just felt you'll come here just for me and keep me warm!" She beamed a smile, only for it to falter as she looked at him again. "But I sure wish you didn't have to do this though, now you don't have your cozy cloak."

He shook his head. "It's fine, I am used to this weather. You need it more than I do."

But of course he would say that, she thought, just as she remembered something and an idea entered her mind. Perhaps, this could be her way of getting back to his prior teasing!

"Nonsense, could you come a bit closer? I'll tell you a secret about another way to keep ourselves warm."

And so he did without qualms, just as she expected. As soon as he leaned his body forward, she took the chance to hold his face and plant a kiss on his lips. She couldn't help but giggle as she pulled back before he could make any sort of response.

"Happy birthday Dimitri!"

As she expected, his cheeks had grown pink. Her face was feeling a little bit warm too, but she brushed it off, trying to still be in control of the situation despite her pulse racing. He, on the other hand, only stood frozen with his mouth open.

"Um, Dimitri?"

_Oh no_, was that a bit too much?

"Um, okay," she remarked rather hesitantly, then extending her arms in front of her. "I'm ready to be arrested. S-surely it's such a crime to steal a kiss from the king of Faerghus!"

Her words seemed to snap him back to reality as he grasped her by her fingers.

"Okay, then. Let me arrest you myself."

Before she could fully process his words and what in the goddess' name was going on, he pulled an elegant ring from the inside of his coat.

"This has been something I've been wanting to tell you before. I would like to spend the rest of my life with you."

It was her turn to stand frozen, jaw dropped.

"You have inspired me to become the person who I am today, and with that, you will forever have a place in my heart. In my eyes, you are always my queen." He took a deep breath. "Before, in the cabin, you told me to speak out freely whatever was in my mind. Now I ask you, please tell me yours."

Her eyes blinked several times.

_This was no joke_, her mind concluded. _This was no dream either._

"Please say something," he remarked awkwardly, "Of course, I will not pressure you into something you do not want, especially with all the responsibilities that might entail, so if you do not wish to accept, tell me, because all I ever want is your happiness—"

"Dimitri," she interjected, which made him stop talking." Since you told me to speak freely, I will. Queen, huh? I honestly think being one is too much work."

His eyes almost went downcast but she squeezed his hand, continuing to speak.

"I thought the same for building my own academy too, at some point. But because you also believed in me, it had been something I was willing to do, and still continuing to do."

She removed her glove, letting her bare hand intertwine with his.

"Anyway, that wasn't the whole point too. Regardless of what it would entail, what matters the most is the thought of being with you, who inspired me to be the best that I am. So yes, I would like to spend my life with you, too."

A spark appeared from Dimitri's eyes as he heard her words, and without warning he lifted her up causing her to yelp. She quickly recovered as he spun around once, making her laugh.

"Be careful, Dimitri! Aren't the floors slippery?"

He didn't say anything else, instead showing such a nice smile that really suited well with his handsome face.

"By the way, the whole. . . arresting and proposing thing, whose idea was that?"

"It was. . .entirely mine, spur of the moment thing," he admitted, briefly looking away with shyness. "How was it?"

"I give it a 10, mostly for the spontaneity!"

She giggled, gently holding the sides of his face. She leaned herself closer before pressing her lips against his again. He managed to return the act this time, deepening the kiss as seconds passed. Their only witnesses were the bright stars shining above them, whose radiance mirrored the emotions and love they felt for one another.

. . .

. . .

. . .

The next morning, various servants and chambermaids were panicking because His Majesty and his beloved guest were nowhere to be found in their respective quarters. The worries were eventually alleviated by Dedue, who for some reason, stood guarding one of the supposedly empty guest rooms of the palace.


	11. Chapter 11

_EPILOGUE_

After a year of the academy being established, interests in arts and craftsmanship flourished all over Fódlan. The first batch of students greatly contributed by producing high-quality works that boosted trade with the foreign lands, something that Byleth commended Hilda for. The success had urged her to consider establishing more academies all over the land as well as to train those with potential to be instructors, but she realized how much work that would mean. . .

"I mean, there is also the manpower to consider! Perhaps we can schedule a visit to the capital, or maybe to the slums? Gustave told me that he knows a hard-working guy from there; maybe it'd be good to train him? That would provide him with employment too. . . Oh, how about the location of the academies? It would be nice to strategically spread them out, one at Faerghus, another at the Adrestrian region—"

"Hilda," Dimitri said, waving his hand in an attempt to calm her down as she paced around the room. "Relax."

Somehow, his words had been effective, and it made her plop down on a nearby chair.

"Okay, wait," she said, "It's funny hearing that coming from you. Who knew a day would come with you telling that to me?"

He let out a chuckle, passing by a row of accessories with varying charms lined up on the desk. Even without any particular labels, Hilda had the ability to tell when each one of them were made based on the preserved petals contained inside the resin. He thought it was really impressive as he let his fingertips briefly brush on each of them.

"Dimitri, don't you sometimes wish we could just go back to the cabin and relax all day?"

He smiled. "Perhaps sometimes I do. It is rather funny to think that after aspiring to reach the heights we are now standing on, we now wish to go back to the comforts of where everything started."

She shook her head, thinking how right he was.

"Always nice to have a goal in mind, I guess?"

They shared a laugh, with Hilda eventually ending hers with a sigh.

"It is nice to think of the future, isn't it, but let us go back to the present for now." Dimitri reached out a hand towards her. "I heard there were some great deals on the shop that you frequent. Would you like to take a brief stroll at the marketplace?"

"Ugh, right, I could use a break," she stood, straightening her dress. "Wouldn't really want to have any wrinkles on our wedding day a few moons from now."

The gem on the ring of her finger glistened from the sunshine leaking through the windows as she accepted his hand, letting him take the lead as they walked to the outside.

_**End**_

* * *

_Bonus_

_A Gathering at Goneril_

_(A few moons ago)_

"I'll be honest. When my sister began to have interest in governing our lands and I asked why, and then she said, 'who knows if I'll be queen someday!' I wasn't expecting her to be serious."

A sheepish smile appeared on Hilda's face as she looked at her brother sitting across from them, holding a pack of ice to his cheek. Beside her, Dimitri was sitting with such upright posture, hands on his lap. From her periphery, she sensed he had a similar smile as well.

It took Holst several questions asked repeatedly for him to completely process that his sister was going to be the future Queen of Faerghus, that _no_, the two of them weren't really that close during the academy days, that _yes, _he had actually lived with her for almost half a year at the cabin. Hilda was only thankful how patient Dimitri was in answering each of his questions—her brother was obviously in disbelief how he did not see it coming.

Eventually, Holst gave them his blessings; after all, Dimitri did win against him in their little duel.


End file.
